


Dark Sky Island

by noellehenry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Harry Styles, Journalist Louis, M/M, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Scottish Island, Self-Discovery, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noellehenry/pseuds/noellehenry
Summary: “Harry Edward Styles is a widely-recognized singer, songwriter, and actor whose career continues to set records.” He recites to Liam, who just returned with tea for them both. “I’m impressed. He’s an actor too?”“Louis mate, Styles had one of the leading parts in Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the movie!” He sets Louis’ tea next to his laptop. “You’ve got some serious research to do.”Louis shrugs. He did see the movie, but the soldiers all looked alike in their uniforms, he can’t be blamed for not recognizing the singer.So, Styles is super famous, apparently. How come he has disappeared? Why has nobody been able to locate him? Did something happen to him? Has he gone in hiding for any specific reason? Is he ill, like seriously ill? So many possibilities as to why Styles hasn’t been seen in public for two years. And… where does Louis start looking for him? He rubs his hands over his face and eyes.or, Louis works for the entertainment section of The Sun and his boss challenges him to interview famous popstar Harry Styles. There's just a tiny problem; nobody has seen Styles in public for the past two years...
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 55
Kudos: 215





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been sitting in my WIPs for over a year now. I lost the will and ability to write for most of last year, then writers block struck and I abandoned the story. In the meantime my britpicker and beta left the fandom, so this story is unbèta'd. The story is still a WIP; chapters one and two are done, I'm currently working on chapter 3.
> 
> If anyone wants to help me out with spelling and grammar, please message me on tumblr (noellehenry).
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy the story. I will add more tags and, where necessary, add warnings as the story continues.
> 
> Here's the [ post](https://noellehenryfics.tumblr.com/post/190586746966/dark-sky-island-by-noellehenry-rating-mature) for the fic, if you want to help me promote my story; thank you!

Louis Tomlinson stretches his back as subtle as he can. He has spent the last hour sitting on an uncomfortable chair at a round table at the annual Brit Awards at London’s O2 Arena. He simply doesn’t understand how everyone around him can sit still on these seats for hours on end. His black suit jacket is too warm to wear at the event, his tie too tight around his neck and his shiny leather shoes are a little too big for his feet, which isn’t all that surprising since he borrowed them from his best friend Liam who has bigger feet than Louis has. He loosens his tie a little and sneakily opens the first button of his crisp white shirt and takes a deep breath; that’s much better.

“Make sure you get the name of our song right.” a young woman, in a too revealing black dress, showing a cleavage reaching almost to her belly button, reminds him. “That’s Luv you, L U V, not L O V E.”

“LUV you.” Louis repeats and underlines LUV, so he won’t mess up when he writes the actual article for The Sun. The young woman gives him an approving smile. Louis recognizes her as one of the members of a new girl group, nominated for British Breakthrough Act, although he honestly doesn’t know their song. He should look it up on Spotify before he writes the article. The girl is determined to have the group’s name mentioned in his news article. She introduces the other group members; they remind him of the Spice Girls. The girl talking to him is the blonde girl in the group, then there’s a ginger haired girl in a pale yellow Cinderella dress, a black girl in a white suit, two girls with brown hair, one wearing black leather and the other one a red dress. He wonders what they sound like. The ginger haired girl is winking at him. Is she flirting with him? Louis quickly writes down what the blonde is telling him.

“Could you take a photo of the five of us,” the blonde girl asks over Louis’ head. Louis looks over his shoulder at Sam, the photographer who accompanied him from the newspaper.

“Our management has to approve of the photo before you publish, mind you!” The black girl rolls her eyes. “You can send it to Modest Management.” she adds shrugging as she poses with the group for the photo.

“Of course,” Louis says, doing his best not to grimace at the mention of the name of the management; Modest has a bad reputation when it comes to caring for their artists. He wonders why they are still in business. He straightens his back now that he’s standing; that feels good. He wonders how long he still needs to stay. He watches as Sam flashes several photos of the group of Spice Girls look-a-likes posing for him. Red Roses is the name of the group. It’s a name, he supposes. He tugs on his collar, on the verge of removing the tie that, even though he’d loosen it earlier, still feels restricting.

“Don’t forget; L U V you!” the blonde in the black dress shouts as the group walks away from him.

“L U V, got it!” Louis calls back. “Can’t wait to leave this place.” Louis mumbles. He hears Sam chuckling behind him. Louis sighs, wondering how come he’s wasting his journalism degree on the entertainment section of The Sun. He’d been grateful to find a job soon after his graduation, after all he’s got bills to pay and The Sun is a well-known newspaper in the country, albeit with a disputable reputation. He’s working at the newspaper for years now and is still stuck at the entertainment section, although he’d been promised to do interviews and write actual news stories when he was hired. Much to his frustration he is still reporting on entertainment gatherings, charity events and when times are slow, helping at the gossip section, a part of his job that he loathes. Compared to that last task, reporting on the Brit Awards isn’t so bad at all. Still, he feels underappreciated.  
His family lives in the north; in Yorkshire. He misses them, especially his siblings. When he’d gone to Manchester University to study journalism, he’d already felt like he’d left them behind, even though travelling from Manchester to Doncaster wasn’t that far, he still felt like he’d abandoned them. “Rubbish.” his mother had stated; his mother isn’t with them anymore. He still misses her very much.

He doesn’t have very much of a social life, he’s always at events at night, which makes keeping friendships a little hard and romance, well… it’s been a while since he dated anyone. And never has he felt more than a crush on guys he dated. Maybe it’s just not in the cards for him and will Louis’ future be one of hard work and companionship with his sisters, their families and his friends. Louis has been pondering moving back to Yorkshire, find a job at a newspaper near Doncaster and live near his family. Somehow, he still hasn’t decided. Maybe he should.

  
——

When he is finally back in his flat, he immediately removes the too big shoes from his feet and kicks them in a corner. His jacket he shrugs off and his tie he throws on the bed, then sighs with relief. The rest of his clothes he throws on a chair. In his boxers he walks to the bathroom and switches on the shower. He lets the water beams massage his still sore back; it feels good.

In bed he lies awake for a while. His mind keeps drifting to his siblings, moving back, finding a position as a journalist at a newspaper in the north. By the time he drifts off he has decided. He’ll quit his job at The Sun and will apply to all the newspapers in the north for a journalist position.

“You’re joking!” Liam Payne exclaims, his closest friend at the newspaper, when Louis tells him of his decision to quit his job and move back to Yorkshire.

“I’m not.” he says as he walks to his desk, opposite Liam’s. “Oh, I’ve got your shoes with me.” He hands Liam the shoebox, containing Liam’s shiny black dress shoes. “Thanks for letting me borrow them.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Liam replies, taking the box from Louis.

“Louis, please don’t go.” he continues, not fooled by Louis’ poor attempt to change the topic. “You can’t quit your job! What would I do without you?”

“You’ll survive. Sorry, but I made up mind. You know Ben won’t give me a decent assignment anytime soon. I feel I’m wasting my degree staying.” Louis tells him, hanging his thick winter coat on a hook near the door.

“Really Louis, please reconsider” Liam pleads, leaning his arms on his desk as he looks at Louis with his brown eyes; his puppy eyes look, Louis calls it. A look Louis finds difficult to resist, but this time he won’t give in. He’s made up his mind.

“Why?”

“You’re perfect for the entertainment section. You fit in at the events you cover, you’re likeable, handsome, witty and your writing is amazing, entertaining. The entertainment section is one of the best-read sections in the paper!”

“Thanks for the confidence, mate, but...”

“I’m not finished yet!” Liam says, cutting him off. “You are great with people, Louis. You only bat those eyelashes of yours and people are like putty in your hands. That is special, mate.”

“Thanks, but Liam, please listen to me. It isn’t what I want to do. I want to be a true journalist, investigating backgrounds, get to the bottom of a newsworthy story, interview interesting people.” He knows Liam is right, he does have a way with people. But those people he meets at these events want only one thing; their names in the paper. Some of them will do anything to get a mention, quite shocking really. He’s had to decline several indecent proposals in the past years, another thing he loathes about this job. Liam nods, but doesn’t make any further comments.

Louis looks through the window; it’s a cold and grey day. In the distance he can see Big Ben, covered in semi see-through sheets while renovations are taking place to restore the tower to its former glory. He takes a deep breath and averts his gaze from the window to Ben Winston’s office. He gathers courage, takes another deep breath and walks briskly towards the grey painted door. He determinedly knocks on it.

‘Come in.” Ben’s voice calls from the other side. Louis enters the room; Ben glances up from his computer screen and glares in Louis’ direction. Heaving a sigh, he points to the chair on the other side of the desk. Louis sits down, keeping eye contact with his boss.

“What’s up?” Ben sounds annoyed.

“I quit.” Louis says bluntly. That has Ben’s attention. He blinks a couple of times and runs his hand down his unkempt beard and asks.

“Why?”

“I’m sick of writing about award shows and charity events, I want to write meaningful stories that need investigating and interview people. Writing for the entertainment section is not what I intended to do when I got my degree in journalism. That is why.” Louis pours his heart out, not holding back his distaste for his current job.

“I don’t remember making promises. You’re good at what you’re writing for the entertainment section, I don’t see a reason to change that.”

“That’s why I quit.” Louis repeats.

“So, if I give you a story to investigate, do an interview, you will stay?”

Louis sighs, tired of repeating himself. He straightens his shoulders and replies.

“I didn’t say that. Besides, you won’t give me a story like that.” He hands Ben his letter of resignation. Ben puts it on a pile of papers and smirks. He leans his arms on his desk and looks at Louis pensively.

“What if I have a story for you?”

Louis raises an eyebrow and looks at Ben questioningly.

“You don’t.”

“I do.” He reaches across his desk and picks up, what looks like, a cd cover and hands it to him. “This is your assignment. I want you to find Harry Styles, interview him and write me a ‘meaningful’ story that I can print in The Sun.” His fingers make air quotes when he says the word meaningful. Louis turns the cd case and scans over the song titles, he only knows the second song on the album.

“What happens if I accept?” He asks attentively, there has got to be a catch.

“If you manage this, I’ll give you a spot at any section you like. However, I don’t think you’ll pull this one off. Styles seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. He hasn’t been seen out in two years. Everyone is wondering where he is. So… good luck with your assignment or if you decline… I’ll accept your resignation.”  
Louis swallows. He’s got two options, decline and walk away or take the challenge Ben is offering him, find a missing popstar. He can’t deny that the assignment is intriguing him, he’s feeling a little excitement flowing through him. This might be his chance to prove himself, a chance of changing departments at The Sun.

“I accept the assignment.”

Ben smirks.

“Good luck, take the cd.” He goes back typing on his laptop and doesn’t look up as Louis leaves his office, carrying the cd in his left hand. He turns to look at Ben before closing the door behind him.

“I’ll find Styles.” He says. Ben still doesn’t look up. Louis closes the door. He walks back to the office, turns the cd case. On the front is a picture of Styles’ back, his head down, his hair wet as he’s bathing in, what looks like, pink water. A silver necklace is resting on his shoulders. Although Louis appreciates the aesthetic, it would be helpful to have a photo of the man’s face. He’s heard of the name Harry Styles, he heard the song being played on the radio, but never paid much attention to the singer. He’ll have to investigate The Sun’s archives to see what the paper has been reporting on the man, before Louis started working here. Surely, they’d have printed any gossip on the singer before Louis’ time.

He sits at his desk, places the cd in front him. Liam leans to the side, glancing at him.

“How did it go?”

“I’ve got an assignment.” Louis replies, wiggling his eyebrows. Liam erupts in laughter.

“You’re joking! You didn’t resign?” He wants to know once his laughter has quiet down.

“Nope and nope.” Louis shakes his head. “Have you heard of Harry Styles?”

Liam’s eyebrows lift comically.

“Yeah, I have. What about him?”

“Ben’s assigned me to find the man and interview him.” He points to the cd case.

Liam eyes him curiously.

“What do you mean, find him?”

“Apparently he hasn’t been seen out in two years. So… I need to track him down.”

“A good thing the world isn’t such a big place.” Liam says sarcastically as he shakes his head. “He could be anywhere in the world. How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll find a way.” Louis is confident, he’ll find the singer, even though Liam has a point; Styles could be anywhere in the world. Louis prays he’s living somewhere on a bounty island with waving palm trees and a blue ocean, enjoying the sun and eating grapes, giving Louis the perfect excuse to fly out and interview the man, while soaking up some sun. Liam returns to typing his piece for today’s newspaper issue and Louis should start on his’, reporting on the Brit Awards. He sighs, opens his laptop and goes to work.

Later in the afternoon, when he has mailed his report, he starts investigating Styles on the internet.

“Harry Edward Styles is a widely-recognized singer, songwriter, and actor whose career continues to set records.” He recites to Liam, who just returned with tea for them both. “I’m impressed. He’s an actor too?”

“Louis mate, Styles had one of the leading parts in Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the movie!” He sets Louis’ tea next to his laptop. “You’ve got some serious research to do.”

Louis shrugs. He did see the movie, but the soldiers all looked alike in their uniforms, he can’t be blamed for not recognizing the singer. Daisy probably has the DVD. His sister could open her own DVD rental shop with the amount of films she has on her shelves. He’ll have to text her.

So, Styles is super famous, apparently. How come he has disappeared? Why has nobody been able to locate him? Did something happen to him? Has he gone in hiding for any specific reason? Is he ill, like seriously ill? So many possibilities as to why Styles hasn’t been seen in public for two years. And… where does Louis start looking for him? He rubs his hands over his face and eyes. He’s tired, partly because of the late night at the awards show and partly because his mind is spinning with “why and where “, when it comes to his assignment. Ben might be right; he might not pull this off. Immediately he scolds himself for already hinting at that possibility before he’s even trying. What he needs is a good night’s sleep and start afresh in the morning.

“Liam, what do you know about Styles? I only know he was in that boyband that won the X Factor years ago and that after the band split up, he went solo, but that is as much as I know about him.”

“Dan wrote a lot about his romantic escapades….” Liam sighs. “But then again, Dan wrote a lot of rubbish, no wonder Ben fired him.”

“Dan? You mean, Wootton?” Liam nods.

“He had a vivid imagination and never checked his info and thus a lot of rubbish ended up in the paper.”

“Right, that means I won’t have to go into The Sun’s archives for reliable info about Styles.” Louis notes.

“Nope, I wouldn’t count on the reliability of those stories.”

“Just out of curiosity… what did Dan publish on him?” Louis leans his head in his hands.

“Styles appeared in public a lot in those early days, every time he had another girl by his side. He was spotted with lots of older women too. Of course, all of them were his ‘new girlfriend’, according to Dan and his mates from the other gossip rags.” Louis flips through the little booklet of the cd.

“So, Harry Styles’ image is ‘the womanizer’? Did he ever deny it?”

“He did. He once said he had a lot of lady friends and apparently, he was dating them all. That’s all he ever said about those rumours.” Louis glances up.

“Hmm, interesting. Thanks for filling me in. I think I’m going home, get a good night’s sleep and start investigating tomorrow.”

“I hope you succeed, mate. What did Ben promise you if you pull this off?”

“I can get a spot at the department of my choice.” Louis smiles.

“Louis, just think about it. Why is he interested in Styles? The man hasn’t put out any new music, nor has he been featured in a movie. He’s not newsworthy. Besides, why would Styles give you an interview, if you find him? Dan wrote rubbish about him in The Sun, why would Harry Styles want to speak to someone from our paper? No mate, I think your assignment is doomed to fail.” Liam might be right, but Louis refuses to give up without even trying.

“I’m going to try, Liam.” Liam doesn’t argue, he just smiles at Louis.

Louis texts Daisy, asking for the Dunkirk movie. She replies immediately and promises to send it to him by post.

That night after dinner and a shower, Louis places the cd in his old cd player, puts on the headphones and presses play. He lies down on the couch as he reads the lyrics to the songs. Except for the second song ‘Sign of the Times’ he doesn’t know any of the songs. He finds he does like quite a few songs on the album; totally different from the bops the boyband Styles was once part of produced for their fans. He replays the songs again. The album gives off a melancholic vibe, a longing for… for what? He writes down in his notebook. “When found Styles, ask why the melancholic album.” He underlines the word melancholic.

The next days he spends hours at his laptop researching Harry Styles. He comes across the movie, looks at the pictures and plays the trailer. Daisy sent the movie; he’ll watch it on the weekend. He finds articles written about the famous guy; Liam was right, they’re mostly about his romantic escapades with women twice his age. Styles has attended a lot of charities in the past too. Louis watches footage from a BBC special with Nick Grimshaw, Behind the Scenes of the album and concert snippets, uploaded to YouTube by fans from all over the world, watching Styles dancing and prancing around on stage in the most colourful outfits, draping rainbow flags around his shoulders. He is kind of a goofball on stage and the fans love him for it. Louis can’t help but smile when he hears Styles mocking a fan “Vodka! Straight? No, I mean straight vodka, not are you straight! Vodka straight? No, gay!” Apparently, it’s a famous clip. He’s having fun watching the interaction between Styles and his fans; the man is a pure entertainer. Still, he hasn’t got a clue why or when Styles disappeared from the public eye. He hasn’t found anything yet that could have triggered the man’s disappearance. He only finds speculations. Burn-out, working on a new album in quiet, working on a film. Nothing concrete that could help him find Harry Styles.

“Any progress?” Liam asks as they leave their office. Louis shakes his head. He only knows a few facts about the man; he grew up in Cheshire, worked at the local bakery in his teenage years, auditioned for X-Factor when he was sixteen, was put in the boyband that became one of the most popular boybands ever. He can’t help but think of the girl group at the Brit Awards and wonder if their ambition is to become as big as One Direction was. He also found out that Harry’s former bandmate, Zayn Malik, is living in London and is working as an artist now, he owns a gallery not far from The Sun’s office. His other bandmate, Niall Horan, just finished touring his debut album and apparently is now working on his second album.

“No, I found out the basics about him, watched concert snippets and interviews, but still nothing that tells me what happened that made him go into hiding, if that is what he’s doing.” Liam nods, but doesn’t offer any tips, much to Louis’ disappointment.

That night, when Louis is about to relax on his comfy couch and watch Netflix, his sister Lottie calls. The eldest of his siblings and the one he is closest to.

“Hi Lots,” he answers, pressing his phone to one ear while he presses the buttons on his remote control to find a film he wants to watch.

“Hi!”

“How are you doing.” He asks while he skips through the action films.

“I’m fine, been busy with the new lipstick line. That’s not why I’m calling though. Daisy tells me you’ve got an actual assignment at The Sun and you forgot to tell me about it?”

“Oh… yeah, sorry about that.” Louis says as he finally finds a film he wants to watch.

“Care to tell me about it?” His sister asks curiously. Louis presses pause, knowing this conversation is going to last a while. Lottie doesn’t give up easily.

“What did Daisy tell you?”

“Just that you asked for her Dunkirk DVD to watch for an assignment. So… your assignment has something to do with the Second World War? I thought you were writing for the entertainment page?” The confusion in his sister’s voice is clearly audible. He can’t help but chuckle.

“Harry Styles isn’t that old, is he?”

“WHAT?! Your assignment involves Harry Styles? God, he’s so cute! Why? Does he have a new album coming out? Come on, Louis, spill!” Lottie exclaims while going into fangirl mode. Louis laughs.

“Not as far as I know, but I need to find him and get an interview; that’s my assignment.”

“Really? You’re so lucky, I’d love to meet him.”

“First, I’ve got to find him. He seems to have disappeared.”

“Oh, now that you mention it. I haven’t seen or heard anything about him in a long time. Do you have any clue where he might be?”

“Hopefully on some tropical island, so I get to travel to somewhere nice.” Louis replies smugly. His sister snorts.

“Good luck on finding him, send a postcard.” They chat for a bit about their siblings. After half an hour he presses end call and presses play on the remote, leaning back on the pillows.

“Have you thought of trying his management?” Lottie texts him an hour later. Well, no. Good tip. He sends her a kiss emoji back, grateful for her help.

After searching online for quite some time he finds the name of Harry’s management, FULL STOP Management, led by Jeff Azoff. He wonders why Harry isn’t mentioned on the team’s website anymore. Did he split from his management in the meantime? Louis rubs his face. He decides to try to contact them, anyway, see what they can tell him. There’s no phone number, only a general e-mail address, which sucks, but he must start somewhere. He types an e-mail, requesting an interview with Harry Styles for The Sun; at least he’s being honest, even if it means he doesn’t get a reply to his request. He sighs as he presses send.  
He looks up Holmes Chapel on Google maps for his plan B; he intends to go there and visit Harry’s hometown just in case FULL STOP is denying him the interview.

“Liam?”

“Yeah?” Liam looks up at him questioningly.

“Can I borrow your car if my plan A fails?”

“Why? Do you intend to crash it?”

Louis groans; typical. He once borrowed Liam’s car before and failed to notice the lamppost when he parked the car and bumped into it.

“No. I might have to drive to Cheshire to find out more about Styles; public transport will take ages to get to Holmes Chapel. I promise, I’ll be careful.”

“Ah, I see. What is plan A?”

“I mailed his management, that is; the last known management team for him. If they don’t reply or deny an interview, I need a back-up plan, which is to visit his hometown, talk to locals, friends or …. family.”

“Right. Let’s hope his management replies, aye?” Liam continues reading on his laptop. He’s got a deadline and Louis is distracting him.

“Yeah, let’s hope.” he replies quietly. He’s already finding directions by car from London to Holmes Chapel; a little over a three hours’ drive.

\--

Zayn Malik is one hell of an attractive man; Louis finds when he looks him up online; he wonders why he’s never heard of him. He contemplates if he should try to contact Malik, once he finds out Harry’s former bandmate lives in London, because Malik is currently Louis’ only hope if he wants to get in touch with Harry Styles. Harry’s management still hasn’t replied, and Louis needs to start on the assignment; he can’t simply sit and wait for FULL STOP to reply to his bold request. Zayn’s studio is nearby; hopefully he is inclined to help Louis, put him in the right… direction. He smiles at his own pun. He even browsed through the paintings on the gallery’s website; Malik is good. Louis feels a little jealous. How come Malik has it all? He is one of the most gorgeous men on earth, is a well-known painter and has an amazing singing voice; it’s simply not fair.   
Louis decides to walk to the Century building where Malik's gallery, Expression, resides; it’s only a short stroll from The Sun’s headquarters.

The cold wind and rain whip against his face, as he walks down the street, his scarf is firmly wrapped around his neck, covering half of his face. His hands are tucked away in the pockets of his jacket. He can’t wait for February to pass, he’s in desperate need of some sunny weather and warmer temperatures, like most of his fellow Londoners are, he imagines. He walks as quickly as he can until he reaches Century. He feels slightly nervous as he takes the revolving doors and walks towards the reception desk of the building. Inside the building it’s a lot more pleasant, he removes the scarf from his face and introduces himself, shows his press id card and asks for directions to Expression. The receptionist, a young woman with too much make-up on, directs him to the lift that will take him up to the 2nd floor where the gallery is housed. Louis thanks her and presses 2 when he’s inside the lift. He’s the only one going up. The doorbell rings, indicating he has reached the 2nd floor. He’s still feeling nervous as he steps out of the lift, looking for another reception desk. He takes a deep breath and approaches the bright green desk on the right.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ An older lady behind the desk asks. Again, he shows his press id and asks if Mr. Malik is available. “Do you have an appointment, sir?’ Louis shakes his head. The lady sighs a little but picks up her phone and presses three digits. “Zayn, there’s a gentleman from The Sun here to see you.” She says and waits for a response. “No, he didn’t. Do you want me to find out for you?’ The lady replies in the receiver and then hangs up.  
“He’ll see you, please take a seat.” She points to the chairs in the corner from across her desk. Louis thanks her and goes to sit on one of the chairs. On the small table in front of him is a portfolio of Expression’s current exhibition for guests to peruse through as they wait. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps coming from the corridor on the other side of the floor. A young man with dark hair, black turtleneck and grey plaited trousers walks up to him, he looks exactly like the latest photos he’s seen on Zayn’s Twitter and just as handsome. He stops in front of him.

“Mr. Tomlinson?” he asks. Louis quickly gets up and shakes Zayn’s outstretched hand.

“Louis Tomlinson, thank you for seeing me.” He replies with a smile. Zayn nods and asks if he wants a coffee, Louis accepts gratefully. They walk to the coffee machine together; Zayn presses the coffee button and places two Styrofoam cups on the roster. Louis waits patiently in silence until Zayn tells him to follow him to his office.

‘You write for The Sun?’ He asks once they’re both seated on two comfortable chairs facing each other. 

‘Yes, I do.”

“I can’t imagine The Sun being interested in my paintings and since I’m not exhibiting anything new now, I assume you’re not here to interview me.’ He comes straight to the point with a raised eyebrow.

“I saw some of your paintings; they’re quite good, but you’re right, I’m here for a different reason.”

  
“One Direction” Zayn says without blinking an eye. Louis shakes his head. “Then what?” 

“I want to interview Harry Styles; correction my boss wants me to interview him” Zayn doesn’t answer right away, and then his gaze narrows.

“What does Ben Winston want from him? Surely he can’t expect Harry to agree to an interview after the way that other reporter, what’s his name again… Wattpad, wrote about him and the band?”

  
“Dan Wootton and no, he doesn’t work for The Sun anymore.” Zayn leans back in his chair, staring at him.

  
“Are you anything like Wootton?" 

  
“I don’t think so, yes, I work for the entertainment section, but I don’t make up stories, I want to tell the truth.”

“Why Harry? Surely there are other celebs in the spotlight right now that are much more entertaining to write about.” Zayn demands, and crosses his arms over his chest.  
Louis leans forward, his arms resting on his knees, folding his hands as he thinks of something that would convince Zayn Malik to point him in the direction of his old bandmate.

  
“Look, I’ll be honest with you. I’m tired of writing for the entertainment section of the paper, I was about to hand in my resignation when Ben challenged me to find Harry and interview him, write an article about him. It’s what I’ve always wanted; interview people, do research and write an honest story. I don’t know much about your former bandmate, but I’d like to find out about him in his own words. So, if you can help me find him, I’d be very grateful.” Zayn looks at him thoughtfully.

“If I decide to help you on your way, will you let me read your article before it goes to print?” he asks, clearly negotiating on Harry’s behalf. Louis decides to agree; if that means he’ll help him find Harry Styles; he’s not going to object to Zayn’s proposal.

  
“Of course.” he replies.

  
“Good, I guess we have a deal then. Tell me, Louis, how much do you know about Harry.”

  
“I listened to his self-titled album and I watched Dunkirk… oh and he sang in One Direction.” Louis sums up quickly. Zayn bursts out in laughter and shakes his head.

“A true fan you are.” He says after a while, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Sorry.” Louis says sheepishly. 

  
“It’s fine. Unfortunately, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I haven’t seen Harry in over two years, not since he moved away. ”Louis can read the pain in Zayn’s eyes, apparently there’s a story behind Harry’s move to God knows where. “He likes to be by himself, away from everybody, that’s what he’s always preferred when he was still in the band. Don’t expect him to welcome you with open arms. But I think he should return to civilization.” He takes a deep shaky breath and lowers his head a little. Zayn looks less confident now. It’s clear to Louis that Zayn doesn’t like that his former bandmate has moved away to who knows where, but that he isn’t convinced either that Harry will return any time soon. 

  
“Do you know where I can find him? I assume he doesn’t live nearby.” Louis asks, his heart is thumping with hope and expectation.

  
“Isle of Murray, a desolate island in the Atlantic Ocean.” Even though he’s grateful to Zayn for this information, his mind is cursing. No tropical island to fly to, but some god forsaken place in the North Atlantic Ocean, where it is even colder than it is in London, just his luck.

  
“Scotland, right.” He replies a bit disappointed.

  
“Yeah, it’s just a bit of struggle to travel there. There’s no public transport to the island, not even a flight nor regular ferry.” Zayn tells him. He tears off a post-it and writes something down, then hands it to Louis. “Get in touch with Archie Fraser. He knows how to get there.” There’s a name scribbled on the yellow post-it with a phone number. “He’ll tell you all you need to know about getting to Murray, just tell him I gave you his number.”  
  
  
Louis smiles and gets up; he thanks Zayn for the provided information.

“Thanks for all your help. And for what it’s worth, I understand your protectiveness, being in a band for so long together I suppose you three are kind of brothers. If it had been me, I probably would have kicked me out of the office. I have five younger siblings; I would do anything in my power to protect them from intrusive journalists, so thanks for trusting me, I won’t let you down.” Zayn smiles a small smile and returns to his work.

\--

  
  
“You know where he is?” Liam shouts from the other end of the phone. “I can’t believe it! ” Louis hauls his backpack over his shoulder as he closes the door of the cab, he’s holding his mobile against his ear as he walks to the foot ferry. The journey has been horrific. He took the train from London all the way to Glasgow, then another train to Oban and a ferry to Castlebay and now he has to wait for a guy called Archie who will take him to Murray.

“Technically I haven’t found him yet, but I’m getting there. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m about to be collected from Castlebay and that I will hopefully be taken safely to an exotic place called Isle of Murray. “ Louis replies sarcastically, meanwhile he scans his surroundings for a man who might be waiting for him.

  
“You’re in Scotland?” Liam asks curiously.

  
“Castlebay, like I said.” He phoned Liam to let him know that he was on his way to find Harry Styles and wouldn’t be at the office for quite a few days. Ben doesn’t know yet.

“Hopefully I’ll be back in a few days. If Ben asks, just tell him I’m doing research on Styles, okay?”

“You don’t want me to tell Ben you’ve almost found him?”

“Nope. What if his bandmate just made up Styles’ whereabouts and he’s not here? I’d look like a fool and have failed the assignment. Ben will have a good laugh.”

“Isle of Murray, you said?”

“Yes, Liam; some desolate island in the Atlantic, according to Malik.” Louis sighs.

“Uhm, are you sure? Cause according to Google the island is uninhabited…” Liam replies carefully. 

“Uninhabited, you said? Well, if Styles lives there, then there’s at least one inhabitant. Anyway, I have to go.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Maybe… well, good luck. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Keep in touch, okay?” Liam says.

“I will. I need to go, see if I can find my ride.”  
  
He ends the call, sticks the phone back in the pocket of his jacket and tugs his scarf over his ears; London is warm compared to the icy wind here at Castlebay. He still doesn’t spot anyone. He walks around a bit until he spots a man about his own age, wearing a thick coat and a brown cap, he looks quite young. The man is whistling a song while he is looking at his phone. Louis fake coughs to get the man’s attention. The man looks up.

“Excuse me, you’re Archie… Archie Fraser?” he asks a little uncertain. 

“Who’s asking?” the man replies with a thick Scottish accent. Louis straightens his shoulders.

“I’m Louis Tomlinson. “ 

“Ah! You’re the journalist.”

“I am.” Louis confirms.

“You’re here to visit the beautiful Isle of Murray.” Archie grins at him. Louis snorts.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful, but that’s not why I am here.” He glances in the distance hoping to catch a glimpse of the isle in the sea, but the Atlantic Ocean is vast: no sign of Murray yet. 

“I know, you’re here to find Harry Styles.” Archie turns and starts walking, motioning for Louis to follow him. He stops at a rusty boat and hops on and motions for Louis to join him. “This is your ride. Let’s go.”

“Oh, thanks. ” Louis says as he too jumps on board while he eyes the boat suspiciously and prays the boat is seaworthy. “So, what’s on the island?” Louis asks once they’ve left the harbour of Castlebay and are sailing to the open sea. 

“Nothing.” Archie replies, while keeping his gaze focussed on the sea in front of them.

“Nothing? I don’t understand.” Louis is confused.

“There’s nothing but a few abandoned houses and the ruins of an abbey.”

“So… why is Styles there?” Louis frowns.

“He’s got his reasons. But he needs company, even if it’s from a journalist. It’s not good for him to be on his own on an isolated piece of land for so long.” Archie replies seriously, his grin has gone. Instead there’s a concerned expression in his eyes.

“Aren’t there any other people living there?” Louis asks, a little curiously. Archie regards him for a moment, his eyes boring into him.

“You’ll see.” Shaking his head, he mutters something about city boys and steers the boat a bit to the left. Louis sighs and decides not to comment, after all he’s got a ride to Styles’ “retreat” and here on the boat behind the screen he’s sheltered from the ice-cold wind. He’s not going to argue with a sailing Scotsman.   
  
The surroundings turn rather grim, the further they sail onto the Atlantic Ocean: there’s a sudden mist clouding their view and the wind is howling behind them, making Louis shiver. Archie doesn’t seem to be bothered by the sudden change in weather conditions.  
  
Archie slows down the boat. Louis is curious and anxious about his destination. He stares at the mist and down in the dark waters of the ocean, feeling a little unnerved as they approach the island, which is covered in a veil of mist, giving it a gloomy appearance. They pass the ruins of an abbey, only slightly visible from the boat. Another half an hour later, Archie steers the boat onto a mooring; it startles Louis from his musings. He didn’t even see they were so close to the island.

“There’s nasty weather coming in. Heavy rain and winds. Depending on the wind, I might not be able to come back to the island in two days, I hope you’re prepared.” No, Louis isn’t prepared at all. He looks at Archie in disbelief. Archie just gives a small smile; the wind suddenly becomes more violent and makes the boat shake from left to right.

“About that: you’re joking, right?” Deep in his heart he believes Archie, but still… he hopes it’s a joke.

“I’m not. You might have to stay a little longer here. Harry probably isn’t going to like it.”

“It sounds like he’s some kind of hermit. Does he even talk to humans at all?” Louis wonders out loud. Archie smiles.

“He does, but honestly you’ve got two things against you.”

“Only two? Lucky me.” Louis replies sarcastically, he’s becoming less confident he’ll succeed in his challenge.

“You’re a journalist and you work for The Sun; he hates both with a vengeance.”

“Right.”

“I can’t imagine his face when he sees he’s got a visitor.” Archie smirks.

“Surely, his family and friends come to visit him.” Louis is becoming more curious now. “Or he visits them.”

Archie bursts out in laughter.

“Oh mate, you really don’t know anything about him. Harry’s a good friend, but it’s time he starts to socialize again. Even if it’s with a journalist from The Sun.”

“He sounds fun.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“He’s not a bad guy. He just has become very protective of his privacy.” Archie says as he halts the boat and throws the rope around a wooden pole and looks at Louis. “He won’t welcome you with open arms, he’ll probably blame me for bringing you, but he’ll get over it.”

“Right. I’m so looking forward to meet him after your introduction.”

Archie scratches his temple.

“Once you get to know him, you’ll learn he’s kind and a real sweetheart. He just wants his peace, that’s all. “ Archie turns off the engine. “Are you ready?” he asks. Louis nods. “You see that house to the right?” Archie points towards a small dot, which could be anything really, but if Archie says it’s a house, it probably is. 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s his house, you can’t miss it. There aren’t any other houses around.”

“WHAT?” Louis’ eyes go wide. “You mean visible houses, right?” Archie shakes his head.

“Sort of?” Archie explains vaguely.

“What do you mean, sort of?” Louis asks insistent.

“There are a few houses at Murray, but they’re uninhabited, abandoned...like I said, you'll see.”

“Jesus! You’re not leaving until Styles has agreed to see me, you hear?!!” Louis demands, pointing at the small dot in the distance.  
  
“Don’t worry. If Harry isn’t there, just make yourself at home and wait for him to return.” Archie ignores Louis’ demand. “He isn’t heartless, you know. He won’t throw you out in heavy weather. I need to get back before the weather gets worse.”

Louis supposes he has to trust the Scotsman on his word, but still, what if Styles really doesn’t let him in? He swallows hard and nods hesitantly.

“Just follow the path and you’ll be fine.” Archie instructs him. Louis swings his backpack over his shoulder, says goodbye to Archie and starts walking down the path that supposedly leads to the house. He hears Archie starting the engine of the boat and slowly moving away from the island. He looks back and sees Archie waving at him from the boat, he waves back and suddenly the boat is gone, devoured by the heavy mist that is still hanging over the sea and island. Louis takes a deep breath and picks up his pace. The harsh wind is whipping ferociously across his face, it hurts. He feels raindrops touching his face and wraps his scarf further over his face and ears. A small tail of smoke whirls from the chimney on top of the cottage into the air where it’s being blown away brutally by the wind. Smoke from a chimney means that it’s warm inside the small cottage, something to look forward to, with or without Styles being there.  
  
  
Louis stops briefly to catch his breath; the cold wind is taking his breath away. Even though he’s wearing gloves, his fingers are feeling numb after a while. The raindrops are turning into steady rainfall and Louis can hardly see as the wind blows the water against his face. Only a short distance now between him and the lonely stone cottage that houses a famous popstar/actor. Once he’s reached the door, he knocks firmly.  
  
The door opens with a swing; a tall, slender man dressed in blue jeans and a cream chunky knitted jumper appears before Louis. His green eyes look thunderous as he looks Louis up and down, his mouth turns in a small stripe, his deep voice sounds dangerous when he calls.  
  
“Who are you?”   
  
Louis takes a step back, a little stunned by the appearance of a very angry Harry Styles; yes, it’s him, even though he doesn’t look anything like the photos Louis has been exploring online. No glamourous suit, no long hair and definitely no smile. Louis is speechless; he’s feeling so cold. The wind and rain are now hitting his back, he feels tired; it must be the exhaustion. Harry must see the desperation in Louis’ eyes, because his face softens, and he nervously runs his fingers through his dark brown curls.  
  
“You’d better come in” He steps aside, and Louis slowly walks inside. Harry closes the door behind him resolutely. Immediately he feels a lot warmer, even though Harry is still looking at him with ice cold eyes. Louis shivers. “I ask again: who are you and what are you doing here?” Harry crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares at Louis. Louis tries to answer but his teeth are shivering so hard that it is impossible for him to form a normal sentence. Hence, he stutters his name clumsily. By the look on Harry’s face it is clear that he hasn’t understood Louis’ name at all. Louis feels the water dripping from his hair to his jacket and from his jacket to the stone floor. He looks down at the water that is forming a small pool at his feet. He feels defeated. This isn’t how he’d imagined his first encounter with the famous Harry Styles. He had pictured himself charming the popstar with his wit and sense of humour and maybe even his looks, if Styles had been sensitive to male attention. Instead he’s met with an angry Harry Styles and Louis is tongue-tied like a proper fanboy and on top of that he’s a cold shivering mess. He only wants to curl up in dry clothes on the couch in the cosy looking living room he can spot from the corner of his eyes. There’s a wood-burning stove in the heart of the room. A couch covered with soft throws, a fluffy carpet on the floor and several bookshelves lining the walls.   
  
“I didn’t get your name. Again, what are you doing here?” Harry demands again.  
  
“I’m...”  
  
“You know what… never mind. Just get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold.”  
  
He walks past Louis to the small, but lovely kitchen and fills the kettle and places it on, what looks like, a vintage hob.  
  
Louis tries to remove his scarf and jacket with his still shaking hands, which isn’t easy. Once he’s removed them, he hangs them on a coat rack and unlaces his equally wet shoes and steps out of them.  
  
“Give me those” Harry takes the shoes and walks back to the kitchen and sets them in front of the heater. Louis follows him to the kitchen in his wet socks. Harry sighs when he sees Louis standing there in wet socks and jeans, wet patches covering his jumper. “You’d better change. I assume you’ve got dry clothes in that backpack?” Louis nods and opens his backpack to get out joggers and a jumper. “You can change in the bathroom. “ Harry points to a door in the corridor.

  
Louis exchanges his wet jeans and socks for the dry clothes in the, surprisingly, modern fitted bathroom. He did not expect the cottage to have all the mod cons, if he is honest. His wet clothes he pushes in the backpack and then combs his fingers through his wet hair, so it doesn’t look too messy. His bag he places near the coat rack and then returns to the kitchen where Harry moves around. Louis watches him in silence.

  
He’d left London with a mind full of questions he’d ask Harry Styles, once he’d located the man, but somehow, he has forgotten all of them. If Harry has noticed Louis coming back into the kitchen, he does not show. He continues rummaging through the kitchen cabinets without glancing over his shoulder. Louis considers making some noise, warn Harry that he’s there. Instead he just keeps staring at the man. He’s handsome, even with an angry look on his face. No wonder women were swooning over him in his glory days. His shoulders are a bit hunched, on his fingers he’s wearing multiple rings, one on each finger, except for his left ring finger. His lips are a plush pink colour, his nose is … cute; especially in the way he scrunches it as if something is itching him. All in all, a very attractive man. Louis sighs audibly,  
  
Harry turns around, holding two mugs with steaming hot tea. He places them on the kitchen table and sits down. He raises an eyebrow when Louis doesn’t move and motions for him to take a seat, so Louis does. He can’t remember being ever so obedient before in his life. Harry Styles seems to have bewitched him or enchanted him, depending on how terrible Louis feels about this situation. He decides bewitched is the proper word for now. Harry still doesn’t speak. He sips from his tea and just watches Louis doing the same. Did Harry guess Louis is a journalist and that he’s here to disturb Harry’s peace? Harry still looks displeased, irritated by the sudden interruption of his day. Louis is still a little lost for words; he finds it hard to start a conversation after the thunderous start of their meeting. Instead he gazes away and takes in the beautiful, cottage style kitchen, with shelves full of pots and cookbooks, a large ceramic sink with a nostalgic looking tap. It feels homely. He wonders if Harry is a good chef. The solid wooden kitchen table holds a variety of magazines in the middle and a wind light containing a white candle. The kitchen flows naturally into the cosy living room with small windows on two sides of the room, encased by bookshelves. Apparently, Harry Styles is a reader. Considering where he lives, it’s possibly his only pastime indoors. Louis wonders if there’s internet connection at all.   
  
“So, when you’re done checking out my home, would you be so kind to explain who you are and what you’re doing here, Mr…..?” Harry’s deep voice startles Louis a little. He scrapes his throat and finally… he’s found his voice again.  
  
“My name is Louis,” he offers with a smile, hoping that by being friendly, Harry Styles will be friendly in return. “Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry just sips from his tea again, waiting for Louis to continue.

“I apologise for arriving unannounced at your doorstep.” Harry laughs humourless.“Your former bandmate told me you’re here?”  
  
“Niall? Zayn?” The question is clipped. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to mention his old bandmate.

“Zayn.” Louis confirms. “He told me to get in touch with Archie?”  
  
“I know Archie.” Harry deadpans, cutting Louis off.

“Of course, you do. He’s been a great help.”

Harry snorts. Louis isn’t sure what that is supposed to mean.

“Well, he was. He was very nice and he… sailed me to your house.”  
  
“When did he say you could go back?”  
  
“When the storm is over? In two days?” This time Harry bursts out in laughter.  
  
“You realize it might take days, sometimes weeks before the weather clears up? Didn’t you do research on the island before you headed out to one of the most remote areas of the country? You might have to swim back.”  
  
“Oh.” Louis replies a little defeated. Apparently, Archie wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t sure if he could take Louis back in two days. It seems that Louis is now stuck at a charming little cottage, far from civilization, with only one other human being around, who is clearly not amused by Louis showing up out of nowhere and is suggesting Louis swims back to… Castlebay. Great! Louis hates swimming.

“You didn’t” Harry looks amused at him.  
  
“No, I didn’t. It was all a bit hectic and I just sort of … went. “  
  
“I see.” Harry says. Then there is silence again. Louis feels very uncomfortable. Keeping conversation with Harry Styles is a hard task. And Louis is not making a very good and intelligent impression on the man either. He feels rather foolish and he sighs deeply before he continues to speak.  
  
“I’m sorry, okay? I should have let you know I was coming, but other than the information Zayn gave me I had no resources how to get in touch with you. I’m sure you’ve already figured out I’m a journalist.” he explains a little defeated. “I’m just here to do my job, because that is what my boss expects of me. Just tell me where I can stay on the island, until I’ll be able to return to London.”

Again silence. Harry gets up and walks to the kitchen counter and stares outside for a while.

“You can stay here. There’s nowhere else to go.” he says as he slowly turns around to face Louis. Louis knows Harry is being polite, because there truly is no other option and the weather outside is getting worse. No sane human would throw out another human being in this kind of weather at an isolated place like Murray. It doesn’t mean Harry wants him to stay, he just has to put up with Louis.  
  
Louis wants to be honest with Styles, so there won’t be any misunderstandings. Harry is unlikely to be cooperative and most probably will not agree to an interview, not after today, Louis is sure about that, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be honest with him, at least he has tried. 

“Thank you. I’ll try not to bother you too much.” He replies quietly. Harry’s face seems to soften a bit.

“You’re from The Sun” Harry suddenly states. Louis looks up in surprise.  
  
“How do you know? I am, I won’t lie to you. I know one of my former colleagues didn’t treat you well in his column and reports. I work for the entertainment section, unfortunately. I’ve been asking to be transferred to another department, but well… I was about to resign when Winston decided he wanted an interview with Harry Styles and challenged me to find you to get that interview. And so… here I am. “   
  
“Zayn called to warn me, I just didn’t expect you’d actually make the trip and not so soon either.” Harry says. “You’re quite determined.”  
  
“Maybe. I’m just curious, like everyone else is. Why did you disappear from the public eye? You were doing amazing with a role in a Christopher Nolan film, a great solo album. Surely you can understand that people are curious as to why you left that all behind and…” Louis waves his arms around. “went to live on a remote island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, on your own.”  
  
“It’s none of anyone’s business.”  
  
“No, of course not, it’s just… odd.”

Harry closes his eyes, just briefly and takes in a deep breath, but doesn’t reply.

“Look, you can preview what I write, Zayn negotiated it as well, if either one of you doesn’t approve then I won’t let it be printed in the paper.” Louis offers sincerely. Hell, if neither of the One Direction members approve his writing, he’ll just resign like he intended all those days ago and apply for a job near his family. No harm done, well except for intruding on a famous guy’s life, but hopefully Styles will forgive him for that.  
  
“Do you honestly expect me to believe you?”  
  
“I promised Zayn, I promise you. I won’t offer it again.”  
  
“My experiences with the gossip press are extremely bad.” Harry says with disdain.  
  
“I know, but what if you could tell the world in your own words why you ...left?” Louis asks carefully.  
  
“Why would I?”  
  
“I don’t know… put things right, come back to civilization and start living again” Louis says without thinking. Harry looks up at him, a wild and pained look in his eyes.  
  
“You have no idea.” He walks out of the kitchen to the entrance door. “You can sleep on the couch.” He quickly puts on a coat and boots and heads out the door, leaving a stunned Louis behind.


	2. 2

Louis’s stomach growls, reminding him that it’d been a long time since he’d eaten something. 

“Look, I’m sorry about all this. I didn’t plan for this.” He reminds Harry. “I wish I didn’t have to stay overnight; I don’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already do. I go back to London as soon as the weather permits.” Harry doesn’t seem to listen. He just pokes his fork around on his plate, almost stabbing the peas. He glances up and tells Louis. 

“You should not have come at all.”

Outside the rain keeps pouring down, hammering against the windows of the cottage. The wind howls and pulls at the front door. Louis looks through the window; Harry was right. He should have announced his arrival, he wasn’t here for a quick snapshot of the man to publish in the paper. When requiring an interview, journalists usually made appointments in advance, giving their subject time to prepare. He overstepped in his eagerness to find Styles. Louis prays the weather will improve soon. 

He eats, although he isn’t much of a fish lover; the trout tastes good. They eat in an uncomfortable silence. After dinner, Harry takes the plates to the kitchen and places them in the dishwasher, then disappears into another room and comes back with blankets and a pillow and hands them to Louis. Right, he was going to sleep on the couch. He makes his bed and snuggles deep under the blankets, on his side, his knees pulled up. Even though it’s still early, Louis feels tired. Harry has disappeared into his bedroom without saying anything. This is the most awkward sleepover Louis has ever had.

The wind is still howling outside. Louis listens to it. He can’t imagine why on earth Styles chooses to live here, a place so remote and far from civilization, when with all his money he could live comfortably in a luxury villa on a tropical island. Louis punches his pillow a few times and closes his eyes. The couch isn’t a comfortable one, Louis turns on his back; he’s going to have one hell of a backache come morning. He sighs deeply.

When he wakes up, it’s early in the morning, 7 a.m. He slowly stretches his arms and feels the muscles of his back protesting; he needs to get up and take a wee. It is still quiet in the house. Louis suspects Harry is still sleeping in his bed, comfy and cosy under a duvet. Louis slowly rises from the couch and stretches his back before walking to the bathroom, in the barely lit room. He walks on tiptoe, not wanting to disturb the already grumpy Styles. After he’s relieved himself and washed his hands, he walks back into the room, the door to Harry’s bedroom is open. Louis frowns, Harry is not in bed; his bed is made, but there’s not a sign of the man in the cottage, which is odd, unless he’s the type of man that goes out for a jog in the morning. The very thought of running around on these hills in the still falling rain is enough to make Louis shiver. He decides to take a hot shower. The feeling of the water beams on his back makes him sigh in relief. His back feels so much better already. He finds a towel in the cupboard and dries off. He takes a pair of jeans and a jumper from his bag, puts them on and opens the curtains. Grey clouds are hiding the hills from view, rain is still pouring down, but the wind has subdued. Louis walks to the kitchen to find the kettle and make himself some tea. Who knows when Styles comes back, and Louis can’t function without his cuppa in the morning. 

“Well, look at that!” he says to himself when he finds his favourite blend of tea in one of the cupboards. “Good old Yorkshire tea, great taste Styles.” There’s toast bread and marmalade. He puts a slice of toast in the toaster and waits until the kettle whistles and the toast pops up. Suddenly the front door opens, showing a thoroughly wet Harry Styles in jogging pants and hoodie. He must have been outside for quite some time, if he’s this wet; desperate to avoid Louis if he stays out in the rain this long just to avoid having to interact with him. The water boils; Louis grabs another mug and fills both mugs with hot water, throwing a tea bag in each mug. Harry walks straight to the bathroom. About ten minutes later he comes into the kitchen in dry clothes. 

“The storm has let up,” he murmurs to Louis. “For now.”

“Oh.” Louis says, the possibility of a new storm coming in had totally eluded his mind. He hands Harry a mug of tea.

“Thanks,” he says grateful. 

“I also made toast.” Louis points to the plate. 

“I already had my breakfast, but thanks.” Harry replies. Louis shrugs and picks up a slice of toast and bites a piece off.

Harry sits down at the table and takes sips of the hot tea, gazing out of the window. Louis sits down across from him and decides to try at conversation.

“If there’s another storm coming in, that means …”

Harry’ head turns to look at him and his gaze is blank. 

“You’re stuck here for the time being”

“Right.” 

“You can stay here as long as necessary.”

“Good, thanks.” 

What an enjoyable conversation...

“So, what do you do up here?” Louis tries again.

“I live here, not any different from what you do when you’re at home.” Harry says as if he’s already tired of Louis’ questions and he only asked one thing. 

“Watch Netflix, order pizza and have friends over?” Louis replies sarcastically, because he honestly can’t see Styles doing that hidden between these dark and gloomy hills. Harry chuckles.

“Not quite, but I do watch TV. Pizza I get delivered by boat, just not instantly. See? Not much difference.”

Louis blinks with his eyes in surprise. 

“There aren’t any other people on the island, right? I thought…” He still can't believe Harry Styles is the only human living on this Island.

“No, there aren’t. The Isle of Murray is uninhabited. It’s just me.” 

“Oh, I see.” Louis says. “Don’t you get bored around here? I mean, it’s awfully quiet and lonely up here”

“A true city boy, aren’t you?” Harry smirks at him.

“Well, yeah, I won’t deny. I’d go mad living here on my own.” 

Harry stares across the short space between them and then smiles. 

“I like the peace and quiet. I never liked living in London and LA. I grew up in a village in Cheshire, I love the slow pace of living, but I guess that is hard for you to believe. Your face says it all.” Louis closes his mouth after having looked at Styles full of disbelief.

“Seriously? I mean, being a famous popstar touring around the world isn’t exactly a slow way of living. How did you even cope?” 

“Who says I did?” Harry mumbles and rubs a hand over his face. “I hated rushing from one place to another, not being able to see the places I went to. I only saw concert venues, tour buses, hotel rooms and recording studios, in between I slept or wrote music. That was my life, Tomlinson; so different from what your paper printed. Not so much glamour and romance as you guys let the readers believe. It was challenging work, lots of traveling and only a few party’s every now and then. So, that’s why I retreated from the public eye. I needed peace and quiet. You can print that. Satisfied now?” Harry sounds bitter and Louis just knows there’s so much more to Harry’s story than he just told him. Louis shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry.”

Harry suddenly gets up from his chair, walks to his bedroom and slams the door behind him. Louis is once again alone in the room. Maybe he can persuade Ben to change the assignment into finding a mythic water creature or a near extinct animal species living on the island instead of finding the real Harry Styles with all his hidden layers; it might be less challenging.

\--

Louis cleans the dishes and stares outside. The wind is still howling around the cottage; he sighs, it might be a while before he can leave the wilderness of Murray. He absentmindedly cleans the surface of the kitchen top and moves on to the windowsill, a small cup falls from it, waking Louis from his reverie and just in time he can catch it before it falls into the sink, something shiny falls from it and tumbles into the washing up water. Louis at once reaches for the tiny item in the soapy water and picks it up; it’s a pearl ring, which looks suspiciously expensive. His curiosity leads him to look at it carefully. He clenches the earring tightly in his hand for a while; did he just discover something significant? Did the earring belong to a woman? A former lover? He hears a voice behind him. 

“Put it back.” Louis startles, he didn’t hear Harry coming back into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry.” Louis turns to see the pained look on Harry’s face. “I didn’t mean… it just fell from the cup.” 

“I didn’t ask you to clean. Just place the cup back.” Harry demands, Louis complies and puts the cup back in the windowsill. 

“Does… did it belong to your girlfriend?” Louis asks, he’s a journalist, used to prying a little further to gather information. Harry takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

“No, not girlfriend. It’s mine. “ 

“Yours…” 

“Mine.” Harry’s voice sounds a little emotional. 

Louis leans against the sink, watching Harry who stopped speaking.

“It’s beautiful. You should wear it.” Louis says quietly. He is determined to find out what layers of himself, Styles is hiding. The pearl earring seems important to him. Louis’ reporter brain is taking over. 

“I can’t. “Harry whispers. 

“Why not? It’s yours.” 

“Because Louis Tomlinson, your lovely co-worker made sure to tell the public how disgusting and disgraceful my outfit for the Met Gala was and how ridiculous the earring looked on me. Come on, Louis, you must know what Dan Wootton wrote in The Sun. Don’t you guys do research anymore before you set out to interview people?” Harry scoffs. 

“Wootton doesn’t work for The Sun anymore; he got fired a few years ago after another made up story. So, forgive me for not knowing what he wrote, because I was told he produced his own stories. Are you telling me he ridiculed you for what you were wearing when he published the article you’re referring to?” Louis can’t believe what he’s hearing. If Wootton had upset Styles this much by authoring that article, then Louis needs to read it as soon as possible. 

“There was a lot of speculation, as usual and all in the wrong direction. As far as I’m concerned, I won’t return to the music scene nor move on as an actor. I’m happy here. I’m tired of being told what to do, what to wear, how to behave and how to live up to my image. An image I never wanted in the first place. So, there’s your story. I suggest you find the article and read it. “ 

“You won’t tell me?” Louis asks softly. Harry shakes his head in denial. “Not all of us are selfish and untrustworthy journalists, because we work for The Sun, you know? If I can correct the article and tell the readers the truth, will you grant me the interview?” Harry laughs, but it sounds fake. 

“Louis, if you ever unravel the truth, you’ll have the headlines all over the world, you’ll be just as famous as I am. The answer is no and it’s my definitive answer to your request.” Harry walks to the corridor and pulls on his jacket. “I’ll be gone for a while. Do your research and tell me what you found when I come back. You’ll have the best internet connection in the sitting room.” Harry opens the door and leaves. Once again, Louis is on his own. This time he decides to follow Harry’s suggestions and go hunt the internet for Wootton’s article.

Two hours later he still has nothing. All the links to the article lead to error pages and Louis feels himself getting frustrated. He decides to call the only person he thinks could help him.

“Liam! Hi!”

“Louis, how are you? I hear the weather is ghastly up there in Scotland.” Liam replies clearly surprised to hear from Louis.

“That’s an understatement.” Louis mutters. “It’s a downright nightmare. Listen, I need your help and only you can help me.”

“Okay, let’s hear it.” 

Louis tells him what Harry told him and how he finds no link to the article online. He hears Liam sigh deeply on the other side of the line. 

“You won’t find it online. Styles’ lawyers had the article removed from the internet. It cost The Sun quite a bit of money; I heard it was one of the many reasons Wootton finally got the sack. “ 

“The article might have contained some truth, if I understand Styles correctly, but to get an idea what might be the truth, I need to read it first.” 

“Right… wait? You met Styles? Does he agree to an interview?” Suddenly Liam gets all excited, like a puppy.

“Liam! Ssshh! Yes, I met him and no, he won’t do the interview, he’s talking in riddles and I’m intrigued about something he said.” 

“What did he say?” Liam curiously inquires. 

“I can’t tell you; you know that. But if you could dive into the paper’s archives to find the article for me, I’ll be incredibly grateful. The only hint I have is that the article might have been published around May 2019 and it has to do with the Met Gala.” 

“That might be correct, a few months later Dan got fired. I’ll go and find it for you. I might have to bribe Perrie to let me go through the archives without an official request from Ben.” 

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Ben anything!” Louis shouts. He doesn’t want to Ben to know he’s found Styles, because so far, he’s got no interview to show for their encounter and never will. 

“I won’t, I promise. I’ll let you know when I find it.” 

After he’s pressed end call on his phone, he leans back and lets the conversation with Liam and Harry earlier replay in his mind. Harry’s lawyers had the article removed; it must have been damaging to Harry’s image. Wootton had produced lots of ‘untruths’ before that were never withdrawn or prosecuted. And why did Harry tell him that if he ever unravelled the truth, he’d make the headlines. What is Styles hiding? Why is he living here in these remote surroundings? He can’t be hiding here just because Dan Wootton wrote a shit piece about him. What had been so disgraceful and disgusting about Harry’s outfit according Wootton’s writing? Didn’t pop stars dress up effusively on stage and at red carpet events all the time? So, what’s the big deal of this outfit? Why is Styles still upset by it all? 

“Dan Wootton, whatever did you write about him that had such impact on him?” 

Louis asks himself as he picks up his laptop again. Louis feels there is so much more to Harry Styles’ life story than the public knows. He really needs to do more research on Styles’ past before the X-Factor made him famous. 

He thinks about his own life. He is not in contact with his dad, his mother was taken from his life way too soon. It had such a significant impact on him and his younger siblings. The youngest twins were barely two years old when she passed. Three years later his younger sister was taken from them. He recalls the years of pain, hurt, helplessness and emptiness, but they got through it… together. It’s still tough on the youngest, but him and Lottie… they’re there for them when they need them. 

Again he thinks of his non-existent love life. He tells people he’ll remain a bachelor for life; he might even enjoy the freedom of living his own life without interference from others. He’s heard so many people complaining and regretting their marriage, he might as well learn from them. Besides, no man has ever crossed his path who might even come close to becoming a husband. Some of his friends just choose to stay with their partner instead of going through the hassle of a divorce and the aftermath of it. 

No, Louis thinks he’s better off remaining single for the rest of his life. Although one can never know; his knight in shining armour might appear out of nowhere one day. Until then, he promises himself, he'll just enjoy the occasional hook up.

It’s already getting dark when the door to the cottage finally opens. Louis has been researching online the entire time and wrote down a few things that puzzled him.

He looks up to see Harry wiping at his eyes, his face is pale and the look in his eyes is a mixture of pain and panic. Louis dreads to ask the obvious question, but he can’t ignore the distraught figure in the hall. 

“Harry, are you alright?” 

Harry looks up in confusion. It’s like he forgot all about Louis staying with him at the cottage. He collects himself, hangs his coat on the rack and mumbles. 

“I’m fine.” 

Louis knows he’s not, but since they’re not really ‘friends’ he has no right to pry for a satisfying answer. Instead he offers to make him tea and something to eat. 

He makes them dinner; an omelette consisting of eggs, bell pepper, leek and onions.

They eat in silence; Harry seems to relax a little. 

“Thanks for making us dinner.” He says after they’ve finished. 

“You’re welcome. I hope you’re feeling better now.” Louis replies, staring Harry in the eye. Harry nods, but doesn’t say anymore. 

\-- 

They sit in the living room, Harry reading a book and Louis doing more research on the man who sits right in front of him; he feels a little weird about it, but Harry refuses the interview so Louis thinks he’s entitled to look for other sources of information about the man. A latest item pops up in his feed. 

_ One Direction reunites? _

Louis looks surprised. The article mentions that Horan has hinted at being ready for a reunion with his former bandmates. Louis wonders if Harry knows about it. He’ll bring it up when the time is right. Harry is still being nervous, he keeps fidgeting in his chair and sighs often and Louis is dying to ask what’s bothering him, but he doesn’t, he just watches him from time to time when he’s not reading online. 

“I’ll think I’ll take a walk, explore the island.” Louis says casually. The comment startles Harry, his head snaps up instantly. 

“Why?” Harry’s voice is tense. 

“I need to do something. I’m here already, might as well see what it is about the island that keeps you here.” … since you’re not inclined to grant me an interview, he adds in his mind. 

“Don’t get lost. It’s easy to get lost in these weather conditions. You can lend my boots.” Harry says, but he doesn’t seem excited about the unexpected few hours alone in his home. 

“Oh, thanks so much. Any suggestions what I should see? I mean, there’s probably not much, but I’ve seen the ruins of the abbey and a lake, or loch as it’s probably called here.” Louis asks. Harry raises an eyebrow. 

“I saw it from the boat.” Louis explains. 

“Loch Monk. I wouldn’t go there.” Harry says. 

“Oh, come on Styles. Seriously? Is there some out of proportion beast paddling in the loch? Swimming contentedly up and down the loch, waiting to spook an innocent journalist from The Sun with its appearance?” He exclaims, a little annoyed that a man like Harry Styles believes Louis can’t take a stroll around a small island on his own. 

“Maybe.” Harry returns to his reading and Louis is honestly astonished, even talking about something that doesn’t involve Styles, is annoying the man. 

Louis’ mobile pings; an app from Liam to tell him he’s been unsuccessful in his attempt to get access to the archives without an official request signed by Winston. Louis replies promptly and thanks him for trying. Well, damn!

Louis dresses in blue jeans, a blue cardigan and purplish scarf; the warmest clothing items he brought on his trip. Together with his jacket and beanie it should keep him warm enough, hopefully. 

“Are you going out?” Louis eyes Harry who’s looking handsome in dark trousers, a cream knitted jumper and a long woollen coat. 

“We’re going out.” 

“You don’t have to come! I’m perfectly fine walking on my own.” Louis sputters in protest. 

“I doubt that.” Harry opens the door and almost pushes Louis outside. 

Surprisingly, it’s dry, no rain, a slight breeze and a few clouds. They walk together in silence for a while, a silence that doesn’t feel uncomfortable to Louis, he’s getting used to their strange forced companionship. 

Louis takes in the surroundings; it’s a beautiful island, wet, but nevertheless beautiful. He wonders what it looks like in summer. 

“Oh, it’s lovely here in summer. There’s a stretch of white sand beach at the west side of the island, the sea water is blue. The hills are turning into a purple palette in August. Lots of birds and wildlife roaming around the island. I love going to the beach on summer days.” Harry tells him excitedly, with a soft smile, when Louis asks. Louis holds his breath. This must be the first genuine smile and excitement Harry has displayed ever since his arrival. It’s truly a transformation. Louis can’t keep his eyes off the man in front of him as he continues to rave about the beauty of the island, his island. In that moment Louis knows that Harry really feels at home on Murray. It might have been a place to escape from his old life, but it has become home to him. Louis sighs involuntarily, he envies Styles a little; Louis is still figuring out where home is. 

Harry frowns, his smile dims.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bore you.” He says, visibly disappointed. 

“Oh no, not at all. I’m not bored, I just envied you, a little.” Louis apologizes quickly. 

“Envy me?” Harry asks. He looks confused. 

“Yeah, I mean, the way you talk about the island, it’s clear this small patch of land in the Atlantic Ocean is home to you. And I… well, I feel I still haven’t found ‘home’ myself.” Louis explains as they slowly walk up hill. “I’ve been living in London for a couple of years now and it’s … fine, I guess. But I don’t consider it home; it’s just a place where I live, if that makes sense.” 

Harry nods. 

“I told you I never considered London home either, or LA; they were convenient to live at while I was a singer, but I never felt at home.” 

“I consider Doncaster, where I grew up, still home, I think, although it has changed a lot since I left. None of my friends still live there, but my family does.” Louis says quietly. 

“I think we all consider the place where we grew up as home; my mum still lives in Holmes Chapel, but like you, none of my old friends are still there. Murray is the first place since my teenage years that I really can call home.” Harry replies honestly. 

“Don’t you miss having people around you? I mean, doesn’t it get lonely at times?” Louis can’t help but wonder. He’d miss his family terribly; he would be right down miserable living solitary. 

“I do miss having loved ones around, but I needed the time alone. Figuring myself out. I didn’t know who I was, I was used to the public image of me, but was that really me? I didn’t know and that scared me… a lot.” Harry sits down on an old bench, Louis joins him. 

“I can’t imagine how that feels, not having a clue who you really are. I mean, not that I have it figured out entirely, but I think I know who I am.” Louis looks at Harry who is viewing the sea. 

“How do you know?” Harry whispers. 

“It’s a process, life’s journey, I guess. Who says you need to have yourself figured out by a certain age?” Louis answers confidently. “I think you’ll always discover new things about yourself, good or bad, even in old age. You’ll just have to live your life the way you see fit, your life is yours, nobody else’s.” 

‘Quite the philosopher, are you?” Harry smiles. Louis shrugs. 

“Not really, I just think life is too short to waste precious time, experience has taught me that.” Louis feels himself getting emotional. Harry watches him. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened, Louis?” Harry asks softly. Louis takes a deep breath before he answers Harry’s question. 

“My mum and younger sister both died, only a few years in between. It’s been hard on the entire family; the loss of both my mum and sister changed us as a family. The dynamic changed, the youngest twins live with my stepdad, the older twins with my grandparents and Lottie, the oldest of my sisters, and I live in London. My mum was the glue, that kept us together as a family, with her gone, things shifted. It hardly ever happens that we’re all together anymore, not even at the holidays. I’m the eldest of the children, I try to be there for all of them when they need me to, but things will never be the same again. Mum told all of us to live our lives to the fullest, enjoy it as much as we can, be proud of who we are and most of all be happy.” Louis wipes a stray tear from his eye. He still misses his mother a lot. 

“She sounds lovely, your mum. I can tell you still miss her tremendously.” Harry’s voice is warm and empathic. 

“Yeah, I do. She was an amazing woman.” 

They sit in quiet for a long time. 

After their conversation on the hill, things change. They talk, they walk. Harry’s taking Louis to all his favourite spots on the island and Louis won’t admit it yet, but he secretly enjoys their little outings, their small talk. They cook together, play board games. Louis learns that Harry is just as competitive as he is. The weather has cleared up and Louis should return to London, but there’s still no sign of Archie’s boat. Secretly Louis finds he doesn’t mind. 

\-- 

It’s the third week of Louis’ unexpected visit to the beautiful isle of Murray, the weather is nice and Louis has just come back from a stroll on the island when he sees a familiar rusty boat softly bobbing up and down at the mooring. Archie is unloading boxes and Harry’s helping him. 

“Need help?” He asks cheerfully. Archie looks from Louis to Harry. 

“Ah, the journalist; need a lift back to Castlebay?” Archie raises his eyebrow. Harry watches Louis. 

“Uhm… do I?” Louis looks back at Harry, expectantly. Harry bites his lip and shakes his head slowly, much to Louis’ surprise. “Not yet, thank you Archie.” he replies with a smile. Archie subtly winks at him. Together they heave the boxes in a barrow Harry has brought. 

“Oh, and these came for you.” He hands Harry a small pile of envelopes, tied together with a rubber-band. Harry nods and places the pile between the boxes in the barrow. 

“See you later, lads!” Archie starts the engine and waves at them before sailing away. Harry starts pushing the barrow up hill to the cottage. Louis offers to help, but Harry declines; he’s used to pushing his grocery boxes to the cottage. 

“To be clear, I did understand you correctly when you shook your head at Archie’s question about me needing a lift?” Louis asks when they’re sipping their tea after putting away the groceries. 

“I’m not going to send you away if you don’t want to go.” Harry says, not looking at Louis, but staring at the pile of mail that Archie gave him.

“Right.” Louis says, unsure if that means if Harry is just trying to be a good host by not sending his guest on his way or if he really enjoys Louis’ company. 

Louis does the dishes that night while Harry reads his mail. 

“Damn it!” He hears Harry muttering behind him as he slams his hand on the table and storms off, grabs his coat and slams the front door behind him. 

“Woah…” Louis utters to the empty kitchen. Something in the mail must have upset Harry if it causes him to react so strongly. Louis tries not to worry too much. He should be used to Harry’s moods by now after spending three weeks with him in the house. 

It’s late when Harry comes back, Louis is already drifting off on the couch when he hears him coming through the front door. Quietly he hangs his coat on the rack and walks sock-feet to his room. Louis exhales in relief; unaware of the fact he held his breath. 

__ 

The next morning after Louis comes back from his daily stroll, he finds Harry at the kitchen table, painting his nails black… and most of his fingers too. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he sniffs. There’s a box of tissues sitting on the table and black stained tissues scattered over the table. Louis sees tears running over Harry’s cheeks when he comes closer. Harry seems unaware of Louis’ presence. Louis doesn’t want to startle him, so he softly says. 

“Hey.” and sits down on a chair next to Harry. Harry looks up, dries his eyes with the sleeve of his black jumper. He doesn’t speak. 

“You’re upset.” Louis states quietly and slowly takes Harry’s hand that is placed on the table, black nail polish stains all over his fingers; his hands are a right mess. 

“Hmm, do you want me to do your nails?” He asks softly. 

“Can you?” Harry’s voice croaks emotionally. 

“Trust me, I’m an expert.” Louis smiles at Harry, who’s stopped crying and is now looking at Louis curiously. “I have a gaggle of sisters, remember? And they’re very much into make-up, all of them. I have painted many nails when they were younger.” 

Louis asks if Harry has nail polish remover and gets it from the bathroom at Harry’s indication. He starts removing the black stains from Harry’s hands with cotton pads and cleans the nails, until there are only tiny spots of black remnants left in the corners of his nails. Harry washes his hands to get rid of the nasty odour of nail polish remover. Louis pushes the sleeves of his own jumper up to his elbows, places two tissues on the table and when Harry sits down again, he places his hands on the tissues. 

“Let’s get to work!” Louis says cheerfully as he shakes the small bottle holding the black polish. He concentrates on applying the black liquid onto Harry’s nails in silence. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” Harry asks timidly. Louis looks up after he’s done one hand. 

“You mean that you like your nails painted?” Harry nods a little uncomfortable. Louis sighs. “Honestly? No, I don’t find it weird, I think it suits you. Besides, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks; if you like to paint your nails, just do so.” 

Harry smiles, just a small smile.

“When I was young, before the band… I polished my nails with my sister’s nail polish, I wore her…” He stops abruptly, his cheeks flush and he takes a deep breath. Louis knows Harry was about to tell him something important, but just in time reminded himself of whom he was talking to… a journalist from The Sun. “Thank you for doing my nails.” Harry says when Louis’ done. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry gets up, gathers the tissue box and nail polish and goes to his room. Louis watches him go. The journalist in him wants to ask Harry so many questions, but Louis, just Louis, wants to hug and comfort this troubled young man. 

He takes his laptop and goes to sit outside.

\-- 

It’s dark in the house, there’s no sign of Harry. Louis changes into his joggers and starts dinner. When dinner is ready there’s still no sign of Harry. Louis dines alone, poking at the peas on his plate. He isn’t hungry. In the end he pushes the plate away and pulls up his laptop and watches YouTube videos. It’s nearing midnight when he closes his laptop. Harry still hasn’t come back. Louis is worried. He can’t imagine why Harry is still out… in the dark. He’d been upset today, terribly upset. Louis should have gone after him when Harry went out in the afternoon. What if something happened to him? 

The next morning there’s still no sign of Harry. His bed is unslept, and his coat is not hanging on the coatrack. He contemplates going for a walk after he’s had breakfast. He’s still in the shower when he hears the front door slam shut. 

“Harry?” Louis calls, after he’s switched off the tap. There’s no answer. Louis quickly dries off and puts on his joggers before he enters the living room. On the couch he finds Harry. He holds his head in his hands. His hair is wet, his clothes are dry. He is shivering. Louis sits down across from him. 

“Harry… are you alright?” Louis asks carefully. Harry doesn’t answer, he shakes his head.

“I knew this would happen one day. I knew it. I should have gone back months ago after…, but I didn’t …. I couldn’t. And now I… I. I must leave my home. There’s no escaping anymore. And I can’t do it, Louis; I’m not ready!” Harry cries, tears streaming over his face. Louis listens, but Harry’s words don’t make any sense to him. Why does he need to leave home? Why does he have to go back, back to where? 

Harry is shaking, his breath is too fast. Louis kneels in front of him, takes Harry’s face in both hands. 

“You need to breathe slowly, in… and out.” Louis keeps repeating ‘in and out’ over and over, making Harry look at him, breathing in sync with Louis, until he’s breathing normally again. Louis moves his hands until he finds Harry’s hands, holds them and softly caresses the top of his hands with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Harry nods slowly, his face is still pale, his beautiful green eyes are still wet. 

“Sorry… for freaking out.” Harry says. His voice is still shaking. 

“Don’t apologize. You’ve been upset since yesterday. I’m not stupid; there must have been something in that mail pile that caused all this.”

“I have to go back on stage; contract obligation.” Harry looks like he might start crying again. 

\--

There isn’t much time for Harry nor Louis to contemplate; One Direction is going to reunite, and Harry needs to be at the Syco studio on Monday 9.00 a.m. Louis can see the fear in Harry’s eyes, it never leaves him. He’s had several break downs since the letter arrived. Applying nail polish to his nails in an assortment of colours seems to relax him, although most of the time Louis ends up doing it for him. Harry doesn’t talk much, he’s withdrawn, spends most of the day’s hours in his room rummaging through his closet and Louis wonders what he’s doing when he’s holed up in there. 

They haven’t talked about Louis’ departure. Louis intends to leave when Harry does, save Archie an unnecessary trip to the Isle of Murray. He won’t go back to London, instead he’ll be traveling to Doncaster, see his family; he’s missed his siblings. There isn’t anything to go back to in London, besides a job, that is... if he still has one when he returns. He still hasn’t told Ben he found Harry Styles, he doesn’t see the point, because it won’t change the fact that he doesn’t have the assigned interview with the popstar. Liam mailed Louis; asking him when he would return, because Ben has been pestering him with questions about Louis’ whereabouts and Liam has run out of excuses. Louis hasn’t replied yet. He knows it’s not fair to Liam to keep making excuses to their boss on Louis’ behalf. He’ll mail Ben once he’s in Doncaster; that’ll give him a few more days to think of something to appease his undoubtedly annoyed boss. He also will have to think of a way to thank Liam for his help.

Louis has a plan and spending time on a deserted island with a troubled and stubborn pop singer has made it easier for Louis to find a new direction for himself. One thing he learned about himself is that he didn’t really miss his job, nor the city he’d spend the past years living in. 

Another thing he discovered about himself is, that he likes Harry Styles very much, a little more than is desirable. A fact that can only lead to heartbreak. Harry Styles is in no state to return Louis’ feelings; ha! Louis doubts Harry even likes him, he’s just a nuisance who showed up on Harry’s doorstep unannounced and stayed for a month. A journalist from The Sun; the newspaper Harry hates most and therefore steadily refused to grant Louis the much-wanted interview for The Sun.

Suddenly there’s a noise coming from Harry’s room. Louis hears a crash and a scream that makes him shake. He at once runs from the living room to Harry’s room and knocks firmly on the door. 

“Harry? Are you alright?” There’s no response, just another loud crash. “Harry? I’m coming in…” Louis shouts. He opens the door and what he sees is breaking his heart; amidst piles of clothes, Harry is standing in a white lace dress, tears stream down his cheeks. There are pieces of glass everywhere; the dress mirror and the mirror over the wash basin are in splinters. A statue lies in front of the dress mirror; the weapon used to destroy the glass, to destroy Harry’s reflection. Louis takes a deep breath and shuffles carefully forward to a weeping Harry in high-heeled shoes. Louis slowly takes Harry’s hand and guides him out of the room. 

“I’m going to run you a bath and make you tea.” He explains to Harry when he looks up in confusion as Louis guides him to the bathroom. 

Louis fills the bath and ads lavender oil. Harry sits on the toilet seat, waiting patiently and watching Louis. He removes his shoes and his dress when Louis tells him his bath is ready. Louis almost flees the bathroom, unprepared to see Harry in his birthday suit, but Harry asks him to stay. With blushes on his cheeks Louis sits down on the toilet seat as Harry steps into the bath in all his naked glory. They sit in silence for a while; Harry leans his head against the bathtub while Louis watches him relax in the lavender scented water. 

“Thank you.” Harry whispers without opening his eyes. 

“Is okay.” Louis replies quietly. 

\--

Louis makes tea for them both, after he’s picked boxers, jeans, socks and a jumper from Harry’s closet. Ignoring the mess on the bedroom floor. He’ll deal with that later. He can’t help but peek at the floor at the piles of fabric; he spots dresses, floral shirts and more items that come from the women’s section in a fashion shop. 

He places the mug in front of Harry without speaking. He waits for Harry to speak first. Harry looks away, his hands clasp the mug. 

“I’m scared, Louis.” He whispers. “I don’t want to be that person again; I hated the image that was created for me. The womanizer, the flirt, the clothes, the hair… everything about that image. At first it was fun, pretending to be someone else, but when time moved on and the band became bigger and bigger, things got harder. We worked around the clock, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, year in, year out. Slowly I’d become my image and lost my true self. By the time we went on hiatus, I had no idea who I was, what I liked, what I wanted… I felt so lost. I auditioned for the movie and got the part; it was nice pretending to be a soldier for a few months, because I knew it had an ending. I thought I’d want a solo career, like everyone expected me to. I had no idea what I would sound like, what I wanted to do, but again I was pushed a certain way to appeal to a certain audience; Harry Styles is a brand, lots of people’s jobs depend on me being the visible product of the brand. I was exhausted, burnt-out, overworked… pick your word. The MET gala was supposed to be me finding my way back to me. I’d picked the outfit carefully with the designer, Alessandro Michele, showing a part of me that had been hidden for such a long time. I even pierced my ear for the pearl earring. For the first time in my life I was excited to wear an outfit in public; we took a risk, but then again the theme for the gala was camp… and then Dan Wootton humiliated me in his piece about the gala in your paper. I looked ridiculous, who was I imitating, the outfit was a joke. Other reporters were less insolent, but also mocked me. The only time I showed a hidden part of myself I got ridiculed, mocked…. And it was too much…too much.” He takes a deep breath and turns his head, looks at Louis with empty green eyes. “That will make a nice story in your paper, you can print that.” 

“I won’t.” Louis whispers, but Harry doesn’t hear him. He walks outside. Louis follows him. 

“I’m not going to do anything stupid. I just want to be alone for a bit.” Harry says. 

“Okay… I’m going to clean up the bedroom floor if that’s alright with you.” Louis says. He waits for Harry to give him permission. Harry nods. 

Louis carefully picks up clothes, shakes them, checks them and piles them on the bed. With a broom he swipes up the big shards of the broken mirror, the remnants he vacuums; until there are no fragments left. Both mirrors he moves to the shed. 

Harry sits outside, earphones in and his head resting against the back of the garden chair he sits on. 

Inside the bedroom Louis opens the closet and one by one he hangs the beautiful dresses back, folds the blouses and tops and puts everything behind closed doors. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry about earlier; I hope you won’t write my outburst in your paper… please.” A deep voice behind him startles him. 

“I won’t.” Louis promises. 

“I love this one.” Harry walks to the closet and pulls out a silk floral dress. “It’s soft, floaty and it feels nice on the skin.” 

“They’re gorgeous, Harry and I’m sure it’ll look amazing on you with your complexion and dark curls.” Louis smiles softly. 

“Are you shocked?” Harry asks while he strokes the silk with his hand. 

“No… surprised maybe,” Louis starts. “...to find such exquisite frocks in your closet and you never wear them! I only saw you in that cream or black jumper and jeans!” 

Harry’s mouth falls open; suddenly he bursts out in laughter. Louis grins, happily watches Harry laughing. 

“Oh my God… I can’t believe you just said that.” Harry laughs. 

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Louis shrugs. “I mean, just look at them; they’re beautiful pieces. I especially like that black sheer shirt with the red roses; it’s just… wow!” 

“My pull shirt…” Harry even winks cheekily, and for a moment Louis is lost for words. This side of Harry is quite lovely. 

“Hmm, I’m sure it works.” He replies with a smile.

Harry sighs. 

“I wouldn’t know, honestly. It’s been ages since I went out… let alone pulling a guy.”

“Well, I suppose, living on Murray, doesn’t give you much options.” Louis states, noting the fact that Harry just outed himself to Louis. Harry chuckles. 

“Very few.” he agrees.

\-- 

It’s their last night together before Archie will collect them from the island the next morning. Louis and Harry work together washing and drying the dinner dishes, cleaning the cottage and packing their bags. Although Louis pretends not to notice, Harry keeps watching him. 

“I like you, Louis,” Harry says as they sit in the living room, drinking coffee. 

“W..what?” Louis arches his eyebrows in surprise. 

“I like you; I’ve enjoyed spending this time with you.” 

“Really?” Harry’s announcement comes as quite a surprise. 

“Yeah. You’re… you’re not like how I expected you to be. You’ve been kind, supportive and you’ve respected my privacy… except for when you just showed up unexpectedly, but other than that…. Yeah, I like you. “ Harry tells Louis a little shyly. 

“You’re not so bad yourself… except for the grumpy welcome I got when I came here.” Louis smiles. He can’t admit to Harry that he not only likes Harry in return, but he’s strongly attracted to him, infatuated. Harry is about to reunite with his One Direction friends, off on a new world tour or whatever they plan, and Louis is going to Yorkshire; probably has to find a new job and place to live and start over again. He can’t see himself inserting a man to that. He chuckles; he’s getting way ahead of things. Harry might like him here on the island, but once he’s back with the band, he’s going to meet new people, maybe a potential partner and his time with Louis on the remote Isle of Murray will be forgotten soon enough. Now is not the time. 

Harry is staring at him as if he’s waiting for Louis to say…. something. 

“It’s been nice spending time here on the island… with you. I like you too. “Louis replies quietly. 

Harry nods, he seems a little disappointed, but Louis is probably imagining things, most likely. 

“So, you’re going to visit your family before returning to London?” Harry fiddles with the hem of his jumper. 

“Yes, I’ve missed them; I’m looking forward to going to Yorkshire.” 

Harry nods, but doesn’t ask anything after that.

“I’m going outside for a bit.” Louis says when the silence between them becomes unbearable for him. 

“Okay.” Harry doesn’t look up. 

When he steps outside, his eyes at once gaze up to the star-filled sky. Louis has never seen so many stars as since he’s arrived here on the island. One last time he will enjoy the thousands of twinkling little lights dotting the sky. 

He feels hands on his shoulders. 

“I’ll never grow tired of this view,” Harry whispers behind him. 

“I can imagine; it’s breath taking, isn’t it.” 

“It is… I’m going to miss this.” Harry sighs quietly. They both stare at the sky, Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and Louis leans back against Harry’s chest, a little surprised, but secretly reveling in the warmth of Harry’s body against his’. They stay like that for a few minutes, until Harry removes his arms from Louis’ waist and goes back inside. Louis follows a moment later. 

“I’m going to my room. Sleep well, Louis.” Before Louis can reply, Harry has already closed the bedroom door behind him. 

Louis lies awake for a long time. They never spoke about the interview again; they both avoided talking about the reason of Louis’ stay at the isle. A journalist staying with a popstar… Louis could have drafted an entire book about Harry Styles, about the hidden sides of the man, his troubles, but instead Louis has given up his one chance of making headlines with his story. The interview for the article seems like a challenge long forgotten. Now he only longs to get to know Harry better, privately. 

Eventually Louis falls asleep, his mind full of worry about Harry and his troubles. Harry was right; he isn’t ready to face the public. Unfortunately, contracts are binding, ready or not. Louis fears for him.

\-- 

They part at Castlebay; Louis is taking the ferry back to Oban. Harry will be transported to London by private plane as arranged by his manager. 

Without commenting, Harry reaches for Louis’ backpack and carries it to the ferry. Louis follows, a lump in his throat. He’s getting emotional over this farewell, more than he’d like to admit. He is determined not to show Harry how difficult he finds it to say goodbye to him. It is ridiculous. He barely knows Harry. Louis makes sure he has a smile on his face when Harry turns to hand Louis his backpack before he enters the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry. 

“Well, I guess this is it… time to say goodbye.” Louis fake smiles. Harry looks down on him; they meet each other’s gaze. Harry’s eyes are filled with unshed tears. Louis drops his backpack on the ground and wraps his arms tightly around Harry’s waist.

“I’m going to miss you.” He murmurs against Harry’s chest. 

“I’ll miss you too.” Harry’s voice is about to break. Louis rubs his hands slowly over Harry’s back. 

“You’ll manage. Once you’re on that stage again, you’ll be the goofy, lovely singer Harry Styles whom your fans love so much. You can do it, I’m sure of it.” Louis encourages Harry. 

“I hope so… come see me when we play… please….” Harry begs as they separate, because Louis’ ferry is about to leave, the last call for embarkment has just been announced. 

“I will… I promise.” Louis croaks, his voice is just as unsteady as Harry’s. 

He starts to walk to the boarding area, but Harry stops him by gripping his hand. And says. 

“Louis?” 

“Yes?” His heart beats loudly in his chest. Could it be possible that Harry feels exactly like Louis does? Does it seem as wrong to Harry as it does to him that they are forced to part now? Is there a slight chance Harry feels it too? 

“Please… don’t write the article for The Sun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. I'm still working on chapter 3; it might take a while before it will be up on AO3.


	3. 3

Louis hasn’t slept much during his stay at his grandparents’ house. Both twins have been claiming their big brother’s time for the most of his visit. He’d forgotten how exhausting being around so many people can be. Lottie had come over for a weekend and naturally she had wanted to know, like the older twins if he’d interviewed the famous Harry Styles, he’d denied having found the disappeared popstar and that instead he probably has to resign his job at The Sun; the girls were very disappointed. The possibility that he’d be moving back to Doncaster, however, was met with hugs and kisses from his siblings, except for Lottie who’d pouted and said he was abandoning her. Louis told them that so far, it was just a thought, not a final plan.  
  
The train halts with a screech, Louis gathers his belongings, steps on the platform and walks through Liverpool Station trying to avoid colliding with other passengers who are rushing past him on their way to catch the next train. He sighs inwardly; never has he noticed just how busy the stations and streets of the nation’s capital are. He just never thought about it. That’s what staying on a remote island does to you, he tells himself. He walks the streets until he turns a corner to where his flat is. He unlocks the door and enters his home. It feels empty and not ‘home’ like it used to feel. He empties the contents of his bag and walks to the bathroom. He needs a shower.  
  
While in the shower he can’t stop thinking of Harry’s last request before they parted ways. Even though Harry never gave Louis his desired interview, they did spend a long time together on the island. And even though Louis reassured Harry he would never write about Harry’s emotional outbursts, he never said he wouldn’t write about their time together on Murray. For all Harry knew Louis was returning to his office at The Sun and type out an article about his stay with the singer.  
  
Technically, he could still do that, ignore Harry’s request and publish his article. If not for The Sun, Louis is sure Ben will fire him, he could send the piece to another national paper; in that case he would not only piss off Harry, but also Ben Winston. He grimaces at the thought. He wouldn’t be against annoying Ben Winston, but … not Harry, sweet and kind-hearted Harry Styles with his beautiful green eyes. Not that it was likely that he would ever see or hear from Harry again, but still… Louis simply doesn’t have the heart to write about him and his troubles. It would destroy Harry, being exposed like that; again, by a reporter from the paper he so much hated. No, it’s simply not worth the price, even though such an article might give Louis’ career the much-wanted boost. Besides, he did make a promise to Harry (and Zayn!); they could read his article before it would get published.  
  
If there is only a slight chance Harry would ever learn to trust again, then Louis would not be the person to abuse that trust. It would be Louis’ sacrifice; he might get another chance to draft articles at another newspaper, no matter how small the paper. A national, even international, headline about a troubled popstar wasn’t how Louis would like to be remembered as a journalist.   
  
He wonders how Harry is doing; he’s in the same city as Louis is in now and yet so far away. Louis has set Google alerts for ‘Harry Styles’ and ‘One Direction’. Not that he’d tell anybody about it. Not even Liam, good old Liam.  
  
Louis has barely set foot in his and Liam’s office when Liam shows up, nearly bouncing with excitement.  
  
“You’re here!” he greets Louis. “I missed you.” He hugs Louis and Louis grins, because he knows Liam is dying to know more about Louis’ time on the island.  
Louis sits down at his desk, while Liam is going to get them tea. He glances around. Everything is still the same, as if he’s not been away this past month. Liam closes the door behind him and places the cup of tea in front of Louis.  
  
“So… what’s he like?” Liam simply can’t contain himself anymore.  
  
“You mean Harry Styles?” Louis’ mind is trying to find ways of answering Liam’s question without lying. “He’s a kind man.”  
  
“I know you didn’t get the interview, but surely he must have told you… things.”  
Louis sighs.  
  
“Honestly, I can’t tell you much. Of course, we talked, but nothing I can tell you about, I’m sorry. I appreciate all of your help though.” Louis can see Liam is disappointed. He can’t confide in Liam, although he has been his best friend ever since Louis came to work at The Sun.   
  
“I understand. “Liam sighs in resignation. “So, what are you going to do? You’re going to have to face Winston…”   
  
“I know.” Louis cups his cup of tea and sighs deeply.  
  
“Of course, I knew you wouldn’t succeed; although I have to admit I admire your determination to find the man. Liam told me you went all the way north to find out about Styles’ whereabouts. And that’s why I’m going to give you another chance. I want you to write about the One Direction reunion. There have been rumours the band is getting back together again. “Ben smiles smugly. Louis doesn’t even get the chance to make up a story for his absence the past month, instead Ben gives him a new assignment and shoos him out of his office. “And Louis… this is your final chance. I will fire you if you don’t give me a detailed report to print in the paper.” Ben warns Louis when he’s already at the door on his way out of Winston’s office.  
  
“I understand.” Louis closes the door quietly and takes a deep breath. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. He’d been so sure he was going to get fired the minute Winston learned Louis had nothing to print on Harry Styles, instead he’s got a new assignment; write about the One Direction reunion “rumours”. At least Louis knows for certain that there is going to be a reunion and that Harry, and his bandmates are currently in London, planning for it. So much for his intention to resign if Winston didn’t fire him; he’s such a weak man and only because his new assignment gives him the opportunity to see Harry again, he stays at The Sun. He’s disappointed in himself. He sighs deeply and shakes his head.  
  
Liam isn’t at his desk when Louis comes back, and Louis is glad he doesn’t have to explain his new assignment to Liam for now. He opens his laptop and automatically transfers his files to the company drive, while he absentmindedly stares out of the window not seeing the vibrant city of London, but a lonely white cottage on a remote island.  
  
After work he strolls towards the Thames, he passes the Century building, contemplates going inside and thank Zayn Malik for his help, before he realizes Zayn is most probably where Harry is, somewhere in London doing whatever One Direction is doing now. He hasn’t received an alert yet; the One Direction reunion is still much a secret to the entire world, except for Louis who is one of the few privileged people to have that info. Louis halts at the river and leans against the guard-rail just staring out at the water, that is dull brown, dirty compared to the cerulean blue of the Atlantic Ocean. Not even the slightest breeze is combing through his hair. He misses the tiny isle of the Outer Hebrides already, he misses Harry. Really misses him. He wishes he’d told Harry about his feelings, about not authoring the article. He thinks back on their last minutes together, the hug, their words, their voices. Deep in his heart he hopes Harry misses him too.  
  
He’s been thinking about Harry’s obvious struggle with himself. Louis suspects Harry might be non-binary or gender fluid. He’s been searching the internet for the true meaning of the words and came across Sam Smith’s story. It made Louis think. Harry might not want to label himself other than… Harry Styles. A human being who feels both a masculine side and a feminine side to his person but is afraid to show both sides to the world around him. And Louis can’t blame him; Harry has dealt with so much since his teenage years. He deserves his privacy; a choice of how much of himself he wants to show the world. He just hopes, Harry is going to be alright now that he’s about to be back in the public eye.   
  
A couple of days later when Louis is typing up a story about Syco’s new girl group, Red Roses; the fake Spice Girls, as Louis calls them, the phone on his desk rings. He was just searching on Spotify for that song of the group they wanted him to spell right in the article from the Brits. He reaches for the receiver.  
  
“Louis Tomlinson.”  
  
“Hi.” The lone word in the deep voice sounds a little hesitant.  
Louis gasps. It is Harry.  
  
“Hi.” He whispers a little panicked, even though Liam is not here and the door to their office is closed, so nobody can hear him. Still he keeps his voice low when he asks.  
“H… How are you?” There’s a silence on the other side of the line.   
  
“I’m… fine.” Harry replies with a strained voice. Louis frowns. It doesn’t sound like he’s fine. “I just wanted to make sure you’re not writing the article.” Harry continues.   
  
“I’m not, I promise.” Louis says, glad he’s got the chance to confirm that info and put Harry’s mind at ease. “Instead I’m going to bother you about the One Direction reunion; my new assignment.” Louis sighs.  
  
“Oh… okay. I suppose I can help you there.” Harry sounds relieved. “Uhm, there’s a press conference next week, I can ask our management to invite you.” Louis rolls his eyes. What a privilege! As if not every national newspaper and other media outlets will receive such an invitation.  
  
“Thanks.” He replies a little disappointed. He can hear Harry taking a deep breath.  
  
“Can I have your number?” he asks carefully.   
  
“You just called me.” Louis is confused.  
  
“Your mobile number… if that’s alright.” Harry quickly replies. There’s noise in the background and Louis can hear someone calling Harry.  
  
“Yeah, sure.” He rattles off the number, Harry repeats it.  
  
“I have to go now… is it alright if I call you later tonight?” Harry asks.  
  
“Yeah… yeah, of course.”   
  
Louis places the receiver back and leans back in his chair, he smiles. Harry just called him. He feels something flutter in his stomach and he almost laughs out loud at himself. He is falling for Harry Styles; a world-famous popstar back on stage, ready to conquer the world once again with his bandmates and Louis… is just another journalist reporting on the reunion of One Direction. A tiny voice in his head reminds him of the fact that said pop star recently lived on a Scottish island and in the company of one Louis Tomlinson, reporter for The Sun and just now asked for Louis’ private mobile phone number and wants to call him tonight. Is there a slight chance that Harry misses Louis too?  
  
When Liam is back in the afternoon, he glances Louis’ way a few times, raising his eyebrows, but Louis just grins, doesn’t say anything to Liam.  
  
“What’s got you grinning from ear to ear?” Liam asks when they walk to the tube station together.  
  
“Nothing, nothing.” Louis tries to hold another grin.  
  
“I don’t believe you. You’ve got a date… is that it? Are you meeting someone?”  
  
“No, absolutely not.” Louis denies firmly. As if! Liam shrugs, but says he doesn’t believe Louis and that he wants all the details tomorrow.  
  
It’s already 10 p.m. when Louis’ phone rings.  
  
“Hi,” he says with a smile on his face.   
“Hi.” A timid reply comes from the other side. Louis notices at once the hesitance in Harry’s voice.  
  
“It’s good to hear your voice. Are you in London?” Louis asks.  
  
“Yeah, at my house.”  
  
“How are you?” Louis asks him. There’s silence, he can hear Harry shift in his seat.  
  
“Fine.”   
Louis doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t want to pry and upset Harry. Instead he asks about the reunion.  
  
“How’s the reunion going?”  
  
“In progress.” Louis wonders if a shorter answer is even possible.  
  
“Okay… I suppose you’re not allowed to talk about it?”  
  
“Correct.” Harry replies, voice still timid. Louis is about to scream in frustration. He feels like they’re back at that awful stage of their first days together on the island; Louis asks questions, Harry avoids a decent answer. This phone call is awkward.  
  
“So… what did you want to talk about?” Louis sighs.  
  
“I don’t know… just wanted to hear your voice.” Harry admits. Louis smiles. His heart makes a little jump. Harry misses him too.  
  
“Missed my voice, did you? I know it’s a lovely voice, maybe I should consider doing voice overs for documentaries.” He says with a grin on his face. He hears Harry snort and suppress a giggle. Good! He made Harry smile; anything to brighten him up, even if he must mock himself.  
  
“You’re an idiot.” Harry says with a chuckle.  
  
“Tsskk.” Louis tuts. Again silence.   
  
“I have to go.” Harry’s voice is soft.   
  
“Harry?” Louis asks quietly.  
  
“Yeah?” Harry asks hopeful.  
  
“Call me anytime you want, okay? And when I say anytime… I mean anytime.” Louis insists with a soft voice.  
  
“Thank you, Louis. Goodnight.” And then there’s only the ‘toot toot’ sound, saying Harry ended the call. Louis places his phone on the table and thinks for a moment. Harry is clearly struggling. He wishes he was there with him, run him a bath, paint Harry’s nails for him, be with him, take care of him. He groans. He’s way in too deep. There’s no way he will ever be that person for Harry. He shouldn’t read too much into a phone call. Harry is probably still adjusting to this new routine and the people around him. Louis is his only human connection to his home; the sound of Louis’ voice reminds him of the Isle of Murray. Louis shakes his head. He’s overthinking things. Harry might not even call again.  
  
Two weeks later Louis receives an e-mail; he is invited to a press conference by Modest Management and Syco Records. He hasn’t heard from Harry since that phone call. Part of him is disappointed, part of him is worried.   
  
Restless he’s pacing up and down, earning curious and annoyed looks from the journalists from other news outlets as they are gathered in the reception of the hotel, waiting to be admitted into the pressroom. Finally, the doors open, and Louis finds a seat in the second row. He checks his phone for any messages; there are none. He feels nervous. Not about the press conference, he’s been to enough conferences to know the drill. No, it’s the fact that he is about to see Harry again and even though he can’t wait to see him again, he wonders in what state Harry is.   
  
The doors on the right open. A group of men and women enter the room. One of the men gives the gathered press instructions, the exact same instructions that came with the invitation, mostly about banned topics, in fact they’re only allowed to ask questions about the reunion of One Direction. Once again, the doors open and One Direction enters the room, the room welcomes the men with a loud applause. Zayn takes a seat on the left, Niall in the middle and Harry on the right. Niall seems the most at ease and grins widely. Zayn nods with a small smile and Harry… just sits there with a blank face.  
  
Niall thanks the gathered press for attending today and tells them that they’re excited to go back on tour again, their final tour as a band. Louis has his recorder on. They’ll be touring the US, Australia, Asia and Europe. Tour dates and ticket sales will be announced at the end of the week. Both Zayn and Harry nod to Niall’s announcement. Harry appears to avoid looking at the room, while Zayn is fiddling with a pencil in his hands. Louis hopes Harry will glance his way, but so far Harry’s eyes are trained on the table in front of him.   
  
They have 10 minutes to ask questions. A member of the band’s team points at reporters to ask their question. Niall answers the first question about how they got back together. Louis snorts softly at the fabricated story that Niall obviously rehearsed well.   
  
“We decided we wanted to do a proper farewell tour for the fans. We’re looking forward to perform together again.” Niall smiles at the journalist from the Daily Mail.  
Zayn is asked about how many concerts they will do in total. The number he says almost makes Louis shout out that that is insane! He looks at Harry who is extremely nervous. The next question is for Harry. Louis, and every other journalist in the room, raise their hand. A journalist from Daily Mirror gets to ask her question at Harry. She wants to know if there will be a new album released. Harry clears his throat before he speaks and looks at the room with blank eyes. There will be a best of album with three new songs added to the album. And before further questions are asked, the team thanks the press for coming and they will receive a press package on the way out. One Direction is ushered out of the room. Zayn and Niall wave as they leave the room, Harry just focuses on the door without looking at the room and resolutely walks out of the room. Louis frowns. Harry’s odd behaviour is going to be talked about in all the news outlets. It will give the press something to guess about.  
  
His phone rings when he’s just finished typing out his report about the press conference. He picks it up, an unknown number, although the order of the numbers look familiar. He sighs, he hates when he doesn’t know who is calling him, he answers the phone nevertheless, just in case it’s from work.  
  
“Hello.” He answers.  
  
“Louis, it’s me… Harry.”   
  
Louis sits up straight.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“Uhm… can we talk, like face to face?” Harry asks nervously.  
  
“Yeah… yeah, sure. When?” Louis asks eagerly.  
  
“Now… if you can.”   
Louis looks at the clock in his flat. Nearly dinner time. He’ll just have to grab a quick bite to eat on his way out.  
  
“Okay… where do you want to meet?” He asks, while he closes his laptop and grabs his jacket.  
  
“Can you come to my house? I’ll cook dinner. I’ll text you the address.” Harry replies sounding relieved.  
  
“Sure… uhm, see you soon.”  
  
Louis looks at the address Harry sends him a few seconds later. Right, Louis is going to take the tube to London’s most posh area, which is quite far from where he lives. He quickly figures out which tubes to take and sends Harry a message in return, telling him it might take more than half an hour for him to get to Harry’s place in Kensington.  
  
‘Holy shit!’ Louis mumbles under his breath when he stands in front of the gate of a white mansion. Even though it’s already getting dark, he can see that the building in front of him is quite impressive. He presses a button next to the gate.   
  
‘Louis?’ Harry’s deep voice asks.  
  
‘Yep, it’s me!’ Louis answers.  
  
‘I’ll open the gate, you can walk around to the back door and let yourself in. I’m in the kitchen.”  
  
The gates open slowly, and Louis walks through, crosses the courtyard and around the house. He spots a wooden door at the back and slowly opens it. He steps into a small corridor with a black and white tiled floor and a high ceiling. A bit further down the corridor, Harry peeks around the doorway and smiles.  
  
‘Hi! You found me.’ He motions for Louis to come to the kitchen. Louis removes his jacket and hangs it on a hook next to a familiar woollen coat, the one Harry wore on the island. When Louis steps into the kitchen his jaw almost drops to his feet. Besides it is huge, it has the atmosphere of a luxurious Victorian kitchen. Even the most modern equipment is in Victorian style. There’s a grand table in the centre of the kitchen and even though the room is enormous, the kitchen feels cosy.  
  
“Wow!” He finally utters in awe. “This is just amazing!”  
  
‘You like it?” Harry asks with a big smile.  
  
“Like it? Harry, this is the most gorgeous kitchen I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Even I, the worst cook in the country, would love to make dinner in here.”  
  
“You can help me, if you want?” Harry beams and Louis feels his knees go weak at the look of Harry feeling in his element in this grand kitchen. He could stare at the man for hours when he’s looking like this. Louis smiles back instantly.  
  
“Are you sure you want me to ruin your dinner plans?” He raises an eyebrow. Harry smiles and shakes his head.  
  
“You can chop the vegetables.” Harry hands Louis a knife and together they start working on dinner. They talk about their time together on the island. They avoid talking about why Harry’s in London instead of on his beloved island. When dinner is ready, Harry pours them each a glass of white wine and they sit down at the kitchen table.  
  
“This is nice.” Louis says as he takes a sip from his glass. “I’ve missed having dinner with someone.” Which is true. Ever since he got back from Yorkshire he hasn’t been out to dinner with friends or anyone else.  
  
“Really? Don’t you go on dates?” Harry looks up in surprise. Louis shakes his head.  
  
“Nope, I pretty much have become a recluse.” They both grin.   
  
“Who would have thought.” Harry says as he takes a bite from his chicken.  
  
“You?” Louis asks, innocently, but curious. Harry looks at him with an amused glint in his eyes.  
  
“What do you think?” He asks.  
  
“I don’t know.” Louis shrugs.  
  
“No, I haven’t, unless you call business dinners dates… then… yeah, I have. And I can tell you those were dull and unpleasant. This is the best date I’ve had in a long time.” Harry tells him.  
“Oh… this is a date then! If only I’d known, I would have put on my best jeans and shirt.” Louis smiles coyly at Harry. Harry blushes a little awkward.  
  
“You look nice.” He replies shyly. Well, well! So, this is meant to be a date. Louis would never have guessed.  
  
“Oh… you mean… this is a date? A real… date?” He asks. He wants to make sure, he isn’t misunderstanding the purpose of this dinner.  
  
“Yeah… sorry. Did you not realise?” Harry blushes furiously.  
  
“Uhm… no. You asked if we could talk… and you know… I thought you needed to talk, like the other night on the phone.” Louis stumbles over his words.   
  
“Oh… right. Uhm… I thought… you know, since I like you and you like me, like you said on the island…. I thought we might try to go on a date? Zayn said, I should just ask you. So, I called.” Harry stutters an explanation. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad idea, isn’t it. I shouldn’t have asked.” A sad look clouds Harry’s face.  
  
“No, no… it’s not a bad idea… not at all. I’m just surprised, that’s all. “Louis quickly reassures him. “I actually like that it’s a date.”   
Harry takes a deep breath and the smile reappears on his face.  
  
“I’m really out of practice, you know, asking guys out on a date. It’s been years since I last went on a date and that didn’t work out.” Harry confesses.  
  
“Well, same here.”  
  
When Louis leaves, Harry kisses him on his cheek, very chastely and Louis can’t help but beam all the way back to his flat.

  
  
***  


They’ve played scrabble, one of their favourite boardgames they played on the island as well. They chatted about their families and, of course, about the island of Murray in comparison to London, which had turned out into a game of its own. Naming the pros and cons of living on the UK’s most desolate place as compared to the busiest place. Somehow Murray won as the best place to live; if Louis had been asked the same questions a year ago, London would have won by miles! A lot has changed in a few months’ time.  
  
Their third date takes, once again, place at Harry’s house. They cook together, watch a movie in Harry’s living room with the most comfortable couch imaginable when Harry brings up One Direction’s reunion tour, or farewell tour.  
  
“The first concert is next week.” Harry says quietly when they’ve watched The Notebook and end credits are still running over the screen. The atmosphere in the room at once changes from relaxed to tense.  
  
“I know. I’ll be there too.” Louis says. He’s got tickets to the first concert in the O2 Arena and tickets for the Manchester Arena concert of One Direction. The London one is work related, the Manchester one he bought tickets for so he and Lottie can go together; Manchester Arena was the place to see their favourite bands when they still lived in the north. Naturally, they chose to buy tickets for the One Direction concert in Manchester.  
  
Harry seems upset.   
  
“You’re still dreading the crowds?” Louis asks as he places a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah. Zayn too. Only Niall is really looking forward to the tour. It feels like nothing has changed since 2011, we’re still being pushed and told what to do. Even though so many things have changed since the band went on hiatus. For one, we’re much older, have done different things in the years in between. We all find it hard to find the old dynamics back between the three of us. It’s not that we don’t get along, we do, but it’s different.”  
  
Louis’s stomach twists in a huge knot. He hates to see Harry like this, insecure, sad and obliged to go back to a life he hates.  
  
“Maybe you’ll find a new dynamic that works for the three of you when tour progresses. Not all change has to be bad, it may be different, but that doesn’t have to mean it’s not as good as it was?”  
  
Harry smiles.  
  
“Louis, the philosopher.” He teases Louis.   
  
“Hmm, another career option.” Louis muses. Harry leans his head on Louis’ shoulder.  
  
“You still want to leave The Sun?”   
  
“Yeah, but I’m not quite sure what I want to do if not working as a journalist. My family would love for me to move back north, except for Lottie who is content I’m still here in London. Besides, there’s this guy I’m seeing in London and although he soon will be off traveling around the world, I like to keep seeing him. So … tough decision.” Louis runs his hand through Harry’s soft curls. He can feel Harry smiling.  
  
“Yeah, tough decision… must be quite a special guy.” Harry says.  
  
“Oh yeah, he is! He’s wonderful! Lovely chap, beautiful soul, incredibly attractive, great cook.” Louis sums up with a wide smile on his face as he places small kisses on Harry’s head after each compliment. Harry tilts his head and asks.  
  
“Do you really mean that?”   
  
Louis looks back at him and places a soft kiss on Harry’s nose.  
  
“I do. You mean the world to me, Harry.” He admits. Harry turns and moves to sit in Louis’ lap. He frames Louis’ head with his large hands and kisses him slowly, repeatedly. The kisses turn into a full-on snog session and ends with passionate sex in Harry’s bedroom. Louis stays the night.  


***  


The crowd is loud at the O2 Arena, Louis is glad he remembered to bring earplugs to the concert. He stands in the press section with music reviewers from all over the country who have much more knowledge about tunes than Louis has. He’s here to write about One Direction’s first public show after years of absence. He doesn’t have to write how good or bad the songs are, he just must review the concert as an evening out for the audience. First, he must endure One Direction’s opening act; here they are again… Red Roses. Louis can’t seem to escape the fake Spice Girls.  
  
The girls sing five songs, one of them is “Luv you” and Louis can’t help but spell L U V to himself with a chuckle. The group isn’t bad, it’s just not his type of music.   
  
Half an hour later the lights dim again and then he hears the first notes of the One Direction opening song “Clouds”. Louis sings along; yes, he’s been listening to the band’s old songs and he found he quite liked the songs on their last three albums.  
The group waves to the audience, blowing them kisses as they jump around on stage.  
  
Louis can’t keep his eyes off Harry who seems to enjoy himself increasingly as the concert progresses. Louis laughs at Harry’s antics on stage; his movements are exaggerated, and he has a goofy grin on his face. The band even does a little funny dance routine when they sing Act my Age, it’s hilarious and has the audience in stitches. Each of the boys sing a hit song from their solo ventures. Harry sings Kiwi, a true rock song. Harry looks at the press section occasionally, but Louis knows he can’t see him. There are just too many people in the section and Louis is not exactly tall.  
  
The band ends with their biggest hit “What makes you beautiful” and when the lights dim there’s a collective sigh from the crowd. Louis can feel them, he’s also disappointed that it’s over after one hour and a half of pure entertainment. It was a good concert; the men really smashed it.  
  
And Louis can experience it again in another week when One Direction perform in the Manchester Arena.   
  
He texts Lottie, telling her they’re going to have a fun time in Manchester. She knows he’s at the O2 for work. After the Manchester concert they’ll go back to their grandparents, enjoy the weekend with their siblings. Louis will rent a car in Manchester for them, so they won’t have to go back by train to Doncaster, save them the hassle and chance of missing the last train.  
  
The room is almost empty when he hears someone calling his name. He looks up; a huge burly security guard is beckoning him. Louis walks over and pockets his phone.  
  
“Are you Louis Tomlinson?” The man asks.  
  
“Yeah, that’s me.” Louis confirms. The man speaks in his tiny mic.   
  
“I found him.” He pauses and then nods. “Alright, I’ll take him there.”  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows when the man asks him to follow him. Louis does as he’s asked; he’s really become a lot more obedient since last year. Of course, he’s curious and wonders if he’s going to meet the band; he still hasn’t met Niall. Zayn he’s only seen that day in his gallery. The O2 behind the scene is a muddle of corridors and Louis wouldn’t know how to get back if they’d asked him. Finally, the guard halts in front of a door that says, “One Direction common room”. Right, he’s going to meet the entire band. He’s not prepared for that. Harry opens the door and grins.   
  
“Louis! Come in!” Harry exclaims still high on adrenaline. The guard chuckles and walks away. Harry grabs his hand and introduces him to Niall, who grins and shakes Louis’ hand.  
  
“Great to finally meet you. Haz’ has been talking about you a lot.” Niall says. Zayn huffs.  
  
“It’s the only thing he talks about “Louis this and Louis that”.” Zayn adds. Harry sticks out his tongue at his bandmates. “Hi mate, we meet again.” then shakes Louis’ hand.  
  
They talk for about fifteen minutes before the band leaves. Louis is escorted out of the O2 by a member of the band’s team. On his way-out Zayn hugs him and whispers.  
  
“Thanks for not writing the article. That means a lot to him.”   
  
Louis nods. Harry wraps his arms around Louis and hugs him tightly.   
  
“I’ll see you next week, right? In Manchester?”  
  
“Yeah. Remember I bring my sister; she doesn’t know that we’re kind of seeing each other, though.”  
  
“I remember.” Harry kisses Louis goodbye before he steps into the car that is waiting to drive him to the hotel the band is staying in.  
  
“How was it?” Liam asks the next morning. Louis grins widely, unable to control the fond in his voice as he thinks of how Harry strutted around on stage.  
  
“It was amazing!” He says dreamily. Liam eyes him curiously. “They really smashed it.” Louis adds.  
  
“You sound like a proper fanboy… of Harry Styles.” Liam states. He leans his head forwards. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Louis panics. He can’t be that obvious, can he?  
  
“Are you seeing Styles?” Liam asks with a frown on his forehead.  
  
“Well,... kind of?” Louis’ answers with a strained voice. “I might have seen him once or twice since I’ve been back.”   
  
Liam sighs and carefully forms his words.  
  
“Be careful Louis. Ben’s behaving oddly lately, he’s been asking me about you a couple of times. I think he’s on to something… just thought I’d warn you.”  
  
“What the fuck! We’ve been extremely careful, he can’t know anything, it’s just not possible.”  
  
“I don’t know, Louis. You know Ben has a lot of contacts, someone might have seen or heard something, and you know Ben… if he thinks there’s a story, he won’t hesitate to print it.”  
  
Louis doesn’t tell Harry; he’s got enough on his plate without Louis adding more to it. He just must be a lot more careful when he meets Harry in future.  


***  


“This is my sister, Charlotte or Lottie, as she prefers.” Louis introduces his sister to One Direction. She’s had instructions from Louis, not to ask Harry about his time on the Isle of Murray. Harry asks her if she could paint his nails. Harry’s stage outfits have gone back to the dull grey and black colours of the band’s 2013 days. Gone are the bright colours and with that the bright colours on Harry’s nails. Harry only wears black nail polish recently. As Lottie excitedly obliges, Louis talks to Zayn and Niall.  
  
“How’s he doing?” Louis asks while he watches Lottie painting Harry’s nails. She gives him tips on how to do certain techniques himself.  
  
“Superficially he’s doing okay, blending in like we do too. Under the surface… he is not doing well. He’s had a few panic attacks. Doctor’s given him a prescription. He now takes a pill before we appear before a crowd.” Zayn says. Niall nods to confirm.   
  
“He’s not ready to do all this again.” Niall whispers. “It’s like he’s here, physically, but mentally he isn’t. He withdraws in his dressing room until we go on stage. He does what is asked of him. Put on a smile when he needs to, go absolute crazy on stage as expected of him, but his heart isn’t in it.”  
  
“That’s what I feared.” Louis replies. Harry jumps up with a warm smile and shows Louis and his bandmates his nails. Lottie’s done an absolute stellar job. She painted silver stars on the black nail polish and Harry is really excited about the result. Lottie smiles at Louis. Louis mouths a ‘thank you’ to his sister.  
  
“He’s lovely, Lou.” Lottie says as they walk to their seats in the arena. Louis and Harry sneakily exchanged a heated kiss, while Niall and Zayn kept Lottie entertained with funny stories about life on the road.  
  
“He is.” Louis replies.  
  
“I approve of him… as your boyfriend.” Lottie smirks when Louis looks at her in shock. “It’s obvious, Louis! You can’t keep your eyes off him, and he kept looking over his shoulder at you while I was doing his nails.”  
  
Louis sighs.  
  
“You can’t tell anyone. He’s not out. Besides, we haven’t labelled what we are just yet. Yes, we’re seeing each other when we can, but that’s all there is.”  
  
“My lips are sealed.” Lottie replies with a smile.

  
***  


The next few weeks Louis and Harry text a lot while One Direction is on tour in Europe and then off to Australia. Louis is busy reporting on the many festivals in the country. He’s traveling a lot and the difference in time zones make it hard for them to call or facetime. When Harry is up, Louis is asleep and vice versa.   
  
He’s on the Isle of Wight, reporting on the annual festival when all hell breaks loose.  
  
He’s still in bed when his phone dings insistently and consistently. He rubs his eyes, the early morning sun peaks through the curtains and is blinding him. He turns over in bed to find his phone and silence it. He grabs it and sees he’s got several missed calls and over a hundred messages on What’s app. He’s got as many notices on his Twitter account.   
  
‘What the fuck is going on?” He mutters to himself. His heart is hammering in his chest. Something must be awfully wrong.   
  
The calls are from his sisters, Liam and two unknown numbers. He’s got one message from Harry. He decides to open Harry’s message first.  
  
“Why? How could you!” A crying emoji added to it. Louis feels faint, his heart is now hammering in his throat. He replies that he has no clue what Harry is talking about, but the message won’t send. Panic washes over him when he realises Harry has blocked him.   
  
‘What the hell happened?’ He shouts to the empty room. He knows he’s going to have to read the messages first to find out what’s going on.  
  
After reading most of the messages in agitation, he finds that the outrage is about an article published in The Sun today under his name and that it involves Harry.  
  
He surfs to the paper’s website and there it is… he’s made the headlines.  
  
“My time with Harry Styles on a deserted island” signed by Louis Tomlinson. He suddenly feels cold, he has trouble focusing on the article. He’s fuming, outraged when he reads the publication. Someone at The Sun has somehow gotten hold of Louis’ notes from his stay on the island and has fabricated a very damaging story. Harry is being portrayed as dangerous, paranoid and mentally instable in this fictive story. The article states that Styles shouldn’t be out on the road but should be locked up in a mental home for treatment.   
  
Tears of frustration, anger and horror are streaming down his cheeks. No wonder Harry blocked him. No wonder he has so many hateful messages in his Twitter feed and angry messages from his sisters. He decides to message them back in the family group. “Whoever wrote the article in the paper, it wasn’t me. I’m going to find out. Will let you know as soon as I know more.”  
  
He takes a deep breath before he calls Liam. It takes a while before Liam answers.  
  
“Louis…” He answers. He sounds tired.   
  
“Liam!” Louis shouts. “What the hell is going on there? I did not write that article and you know I didn’t, who wrote this?!”  
  
“I know it wasn’t you. I think you’d better come back as soon as you can. It’s a mad house here. The board members of the paper are here, in an emergency meeting.”  
  
“What? Why?” Louis asks urgently.  
  
“Don’t know, man. Just come back, please.” Liam replies quietly.  
  
The journey back is antagonizing slow in Louis’ opinion. He’s been trying to contact Harry in every way he could think of, but his number has been blocked by everyone around Harry. He tried calling the band’s management and Harry’s manager, but to no avail. He wants to smash his phone against a wall. On the train ride back, he hears people in the carriage talking about the article, gossiping, guessing about the journalist and Harry Styles. He got what he always wanted, a headline in the newspaper written by Louis Tomlinson; he never imagined this was the way he would make the headlines with a fictive article written under his name, but not by him. Who wrote this? And how did they get his notes? He’s still puzzled by it all. It can’t be Liam, not him. Although, he is the only one at the paper who knows about Louis’ stay on the island. But Liam wouldn’t do that, would he? Nah, he can’t imagine Liam writing such a horrible story. Besides, it was Liam who’d asked Louis to come back as soon as possible. He can’t wait to arrive at The Sun and find out who did this to Harry … and him.  
  
He quickly walks to his office when he arrives at The Sun’s headquarters. He hears whispers around him as he passes co-workers on his way to his and Liam’s office. He throws open the door and slams it behind him, startling a very tired looking Liam Payne.   
  
“Thank God, you’re here.” Liam says sincerely. He picks up the phone and orders coffee for them and tells the receptionist Louis has arrived, but to wait to announce his arrival to the board members, until Liam has filled him in on the situation.  
  
Louis narrows his eyes.  
  
“What was all that about?” He demands to know.  
  
“Just take a seat, Louis. I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. Just… let me speak. I only had an hour’s sleep before all hell broke loose here at HQ, I’m fucking tired, mate.” Louis has never heard Liam speak like this.   
  
There’s a knock on the door; the receptionist places two cups of coffee in front of them and gives Louis a sad smile, before she leaves. Louis stays quiet. He waits for Liam to speak. Liam takes a sip from his coffee before he does so.  
  
“Remember when I told you to be careful and that I thought Ben was up to something?” He says. Louis nods, he remembers. “Well, apparently he was. Louis, it was Ben who wrote the article and published it without your knowledge. He used your notes. Did you know he had those?” Liam asks.   
  
“No, of course I didn’t. How did he get those?” Louis still can’t think of how Ben got his notes.  
  
‘You transferred the files to the company drive.” Liam says and waits for Louis to reply. Louis frowns and then his eyes go wide. He did… he uploaded the files on his first day back, like he always does when he’s taken notes on an out of office assignment. FUCK! It’s his own fault! Louis slumps down in his seat. How stupid of him to upload such sensitive info to the company drive.   
  
“Oh God, I fucked up badly!’ He whispers to Liam. Liam places a hand on his arm.  
  
“You didn’t. You know it’s company policy to ask permission if you want to use someone else’s notes. I assume Ben didn’t ask, did he?” Louis shakes his head.  
  
There’s a knock on the door.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt. The board wants to talk to Mr. Tomlinson.” The receptionist tells them.  
  
“I’d better go.” Louis says. He gets up and leaves the office.

  
***

  
That night in bed, his mind keeps spinning. He’s been sent away on half pay by the board as suggested by The Sun’s lawyers while they prepare for a lawsuit against the paper. Harry’s legal team at once went over to action. Ben also was sent away. And now Louis just must wait how things play out.   
  
Photos of his and Ben’s faces are floating around on the internet. His twitter account is set on private, but he couldn’t avoid reading some of the awful comments people wrote. All of them hateful and for the first time in life he is frightened. What if one of those people carries out their threats?  
  
It’s early morning when he finally falls asleep.  


***

  
There are whispers behind his back when he goes grocery shopping at the nearest Sainsbury’s. He gets called names when he’s walking down the street back to his flat. Suddenly he is famous or rather, infamous and he doesn’t feel safe in London anymore. He dumps his groceries on the table and calls The Sun’s lawyers office.  
  
An hour later he’s packing a suitcase and a bag after he’s made a call he didn’t think he’d ever make again. There’s only one place he could think of where he’ll be left alone. He’s arranged for a rental car, not wanting to take the risk of being recognised while traveling by public transport. This time he can’t wait to arrive at Castlebay and take the rickety boat to the only safe place he can think of… the Isle of Murray.


	4. 4

“Louis Tomlinson.” Archie says.

“Archie...” Louis doesn’t know what else to say. Archie nods and motions for Louis to step aboard his boat. He doesn’t speak but starts preparing to sail out. Louis takes a seat in the same spot where he sat all those months ago when Archie sailed him to Murray for the first time. The weather is a lot more friendly today than it was in March. The sea is calm, only tiny ripples on the surface of the ocean show that there is current underneath. The sun is shining brightly and for a moment Louis closes his eyes. He hears Archie starting the engine and slowly they move away from the quay. Louis takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. His gaze lingers for a while in the distant.

“Are you alright?” Archie asks once they’re at a safe distant from the shore. Louis tightens his hold on the suitcase. He nods a silent yes. 

“You don’t look alright.” Archie replies.

“I will be.” Louis answers. “Thank you for letting me rent the cottage.”

“It’s not mine.” Archie looks in the distant, a hint of a smile is on his lips. Louis frowns.

“It’s not?” He asks confused.

“No, I just take care of it when Harry isn’t here.” 

“It’s Harry’s??” Louis exclaims a little too loudly. Archie looks at him and says.

“It is.”

Louis curses under his breath before he asks.

“Does he know I’m renting the house?” Archie shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ll need to ask him about that.”

“You’re joking, right? Did you not read the newspapers? I’m sure he would never agree to rent his house to me. You’d better turn around and take me back to Castlebay.” Louis shouts in frustration. Archie just shakes his head.

“I read the newspaper and I’m certain it wasn’t you who wrote that nasty story about him. Besides, Harry said to let you have the cottage for as long as you need it.” Louis narrows his eyes and looks at Archie with suspicion. He is sure Archie is making up the story; Harry would never let him rent the cottage not after what happened. “I’m serious, Louis. Let’s get you to Murray, aye?” Although Louis still doesn’t believe him, he just lets it be and focuses again on the Atlantic Ocean in front of him.

The contours of the island come into view.The purple and red hues of the heather in bloom on the hills, the white sand of the beach and the long green grass waving gently in the soft breeze make Louis’ heart beat faster. He exhales and whispers. 

“Home…” he blushes when he realises that Archie heard him going by the smile on his face.  
Archie helps Louis with his luggage and before he sails back, he says.

“You’ll be alright. Take your time, let the island heal you.” Louis nods and waves when Archie speeds up the engine and returns to Castlebay. Louis watches him go until there’s only a tiny dot visible in the far distant. He turns around to spot another tiny dot in the distant and smiles softly. The walk to the cottage is far more pleasant than his first visit to the cottage when the rain was pouring down on the island and the wind was howling. This time there’s a soft breeze and the sun is shining on his back and before he knows he’s already in front of the white house. He takes the key out of the pocket of his jacket and opens the door, wheels his suitcase in behind him and removes the backpack from his shoulders. He walks from room to room, hesitates in front of ‘Harry’s’ bedroom before he slowly opens it. He sighs in relief. Everything in the cottage is still the same, nothing changed, which is good, Louis thinks.  
First, he’s going to make a cuppa and sit outside on the small terrace.

***  


It takes a couple of days for Louis to adjust to the slow pace of life again after the weeks of reporting on music festivals and the crowds and noise that are inherent to them and the nerve wrecking days after the festival on the Isle of Wight. At first, he feels the need to do something, anything. He is restless and can’t seem to relax, so he goes for long walks and even swims in the Atlantic Ocean, although swimming has never been his favourite pastime. However, somehow, it’s exactly the swimming that makes him relax in the end. And he shakes his head once he’s lying down on the large bath towel he brought. 

“You’re ridiculous.” He accuses himself. He enjoys the sunbeams that warm his near naked body and before he knows he drifts off to dreamland.

After dinner he opens his laptop and hesitates before he types in the name in the google search bar. He hasn’t been keeping up with One Direction news or the progress of the lawsuit against him, or rather Ben Winston and The Sun. Liam would call him to keep him up to date on news concerning the case, so he wouldn’t have to rely on whatever he finds online about it.

He clicks ‘search’ and google presents him the latest news about Harry Styles. The first results are videos made by fans from the night before from One Direction’s concert at Ohio Stadium in Columbus. Louis clicks the first result and his mouth falls open when he spots the band on stage. Instead of wearing black skinny jeans and T-shirts they’re wearing different, more colourful clothes. Niall wears a rusty brown pair of plaited trousers and a short-sleeved cream coloured button up, Zayn is wearing grey fitted trousers and a dark lime green suede jacket over a grey shirt and Harry… is wearing black flared trousers, a black fitted gilet and a purple frilly shirt; the men look absolutely stunning. Harry is running across the stage waving a rainbow flag and he appears to be a lot happier on stage. Both Niall and Zayn are grinning when Harry stops to make a pirouette while holding on to the flag and sings the final words to the band’s biggest hit ‘That's what makes you beautiful’.

Louis can’t help but smile, although inside he feels sad. There hasn’t been a moment when Harry isn’t in the forefront of his mind. His mobile phone has no texts from Harry since that last message sent on the night before the morning he woke up at the Isle of Wight.  
  
He clicks various links to other fan made videos of the past concerts in the US and then continues to the last concert of the Australian leg at the Allianz Stadium in Sydney and frowns. The Australian concert was a copy of the concerts in Europe, setlist- and outfit wise. The American leg of the tour appears to be one of a completely different era. Louis feels as if he’s missed quite a bit of information, so he scrolls down, reads concert reviews and fan reports until he stumbles on a press conference which took place before their first concert of the American part of the tour, in LA.

The band explains that so far they have enjoyed doing the tour in the “old” One Direction way, but they want to show the fans who they are now and so they made a few changes in setlist and stage performance. Of course they’ll still sing their biggest hits, but they also include more of the songs from their albums; songs that they like as well as a small set of the solo songs released by each member, songs that mean something to them personally. 

Of course, one of the journalists brings up the newspaper article about Harry. Louis almost bites his knuckles when Harry responds to the question with determination.

“No comment.” 

Which, of course, is the only answer Harry could have given, but for a minute Louis had thought Harry would say something about the article. Although it’s clear the entire affair hasn’t left Harry unscarred, he deals a lot better with the press than he did a couple of months ago. 

Louis pauses the video at a close-up from Harry’s face; his right hand slowly moves to the screen and with his finger he touches the side of Harry’s face and traces the jawline with his finger before he closes his laptop and sighs.

He leans his head against the backrest of the couch, his eyes fill with tears, one escapes and runs down his cheek, soon to be followed by more tears, until he’s full on sobbing.

***

He doesn’t open his laptop again; he knows he won’t be able to resist the urge to look up news about Harry and it only makes him feel terribly sad. He even contemplates leaving Murray, because everything reminds him of Harry, but then he decides against it. He feels at home here, besides... where would he go? He’s got no job to go back to until the entire mess has been sorted out and he’s not ready to see his family. He fills his days with walks, swimming and writing, actual writing in a notebook with a ballpoint. He drafts short stories, writes about his feelings, his thoughts and he thinks a lot these days. Especially about his future life, he writes down what he wants from life, what’s important to him, who’s important to him. It gives him insight in himself and the more he thinks the more he can narrow his wishes down to a few things. One thing is for sure; he’s going to alter his life drastically, no matter the outcome of the court case. He’s not going back to writing for The Sun ever again. He underlines the sentence determinedly.

Liam calls him and tells him they’ve set a date for the court case, but Louis doesn’t have to come back for it. His statement he gave before he left, will be enough for the court. The board members of The Sun hope to settle the case quickly with a rectification in the newspaper, a considerable sum of money paid to Styles and … Ben’s dismissal. When Liam ends the call, Louis sighs in relief. He’s glad he doesn’t have to show up for the court case, which is due next week. Liam has promised to let him know how the board will continue.

***

It’s the end of September. Louis sits up in bed; he’s feeling a deep sense of peace. The court case is over; there’s been a rectification in the newspaper, The Sun had to pay a considerable amount of money to one of the charities Harry supports, Louis’ name was cleared, Ben got fired and Louis… mailed his resignation, which had been accepted by the board. It feels like a burden has fallen of his shoulders, he feels a lot lighter and … at peace. 

He would always love Harry, even though he might never get a chance to speak to him, apologize to him for the mess Louis unknowingly created, but Louis is ready to move on. The sun is shining, and Louis is determined to enjoy these last days of sunshine before autumn rains sweep in from the ocean.  
  
He gets up, takes a shower, grabs a pair of jeans, and pulls a hoodie over his head and walks to the kitchen. He boils water and makes tea, his last bag of Yorkshire tea. Hopefully Archie makes it to the island today; he said he might drop off Louis’ orders late today if all went well. Which was a bit odd, but he promised if he wouldn’t make it today, he’d come tomorrow. He enjoys his island morning ritual of drinking his tea outside on the terrace if the weather permits. He watches two birds who seem to quarrel, and he calls out to them.

“Be nice to each other!”

He’s made a habit of talking to wildlife, even if it might seem odd, but it gives him a chance to use his voice. He hardly calls people on the phone because the reception is bad at the island. He uses text to keep in touch with his family and Liam.  
  
By noon he’s done his daily stroll and is on his way back to the cottage. He’s humming to himself, another new habit he’s taken up since a few days. He smiles when he sees the white dot in the distance and picks up his pace a little. When he comes closer, he sees a figure sitting on the chair outside the cottage; that must be Archie who’s come earlier than expected to drop off Louis’ groceries. He smiles and waves. The figure raises his arm hesitantly and gives a small wave. Louis frowns; that’s not like Archie. He usually is very cheerful, annoyingly so at times. When he comes nearer, he sees the figure is not Archie Fraser. His heart drops and his throat tightens. The man sitting on the terrace is the man he loves, the man he thought he’d never see again.

“Harry...” Louis says breathlessly. Harry stands up. 

“Louis…” Harry replies with a shaky voice. “Sorry for intruding…” he adds helplessly as his shoulders drop a little. Louis’s mouth has gone completely dry. He can’t seem to utter a single word after the first ‘Harry’. Harry’s intense gaze settles on Louis. Louis wants to welcome Harry, but he finds it impossible to speak. Harry is here, at their cottage, here at Murray. They stare at each other, each waiting for the other to say something. The only sensible thing to do in Louis’ mind is to rush across the terrace and launch himself into Harry’s arms. Harry catches him and lifts him off the ground and they kiss each other, a passionate kiss, as if they are starved for each other. Harry slowly sets Louis down on the ground again. Louis’ hands frame Harry’s face, his beautiful face, where the dimples slowly come on display. Harry’s beautiful green eyes are filling with tears.

“Don’t cry, love. Please, don’t cry. I’m so sorry …. So deeply sorry for all the pain that I caused you.” Louis whispers as he places soft kisses on Harry’s cheeks.

“Not your fault...not your fault.” Harry sniffs and leans his forehead against Louis’. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too...oh love, how I’ve missed you.” Louis replies. “Let’s go inside, yeah? I’ll make you tea…” and then he realises something. “Uhm… did Archie bring groceries?” 

Harry wipes his tears away and smiles.

“I’ve already put them away… I have my own key to the cottage.” 

Louis smiles and plants another kiss on Harry’s cheek before he goes into the kitchen to make them tea. Harry sits down at the kitchen table and watches Louis; Louis can feel it.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Louis says when he sits down opposite Harry, placing two cups of Yorkshire tea in front of them. “You’re actually here.”

“I’m here… for as long as you want me here.” Harry answers.

“Forever.” Louis at once replies and Harry’s eyes fill once again with tears. Louis reaches out and caresses Harry’s cheek. “I mean it. I know we have a lot to talk about, but... I love you… with all my heart.“Louis says softly.

“I love you too, Louis. You mean so much to me. But you are right, we have a lot to talk about, just not right now, please. I’m exhausted.” Harry says and Louis sees Harry can barely keep his eyes open. 

“I’m going to make us a quick lunch and then you can have a nap, sounds good?” Louis offers right away.

“Sounds perfect.” Harry sighs sleepily.

***  


“My career isn’t nearly as important as you are.” Harry says that night when they sit in the living room.

“You want to give up your career?” Louis asks carefully. “I mean, now that you’ve done another tour, are you sure you want to give up performing? You appeared to enjoy yourself on stage.”

“Maybe not give it up entirely but touring the globe once more with the band gave me a chance to really make decisions for myself.” Harry replies. “I like to perform, but I prefer small venues. I like to write music, like the process of making an album. I could still do that for as long as the public wants me, but I’ll do it on my own terms.” He says with determination. Louis still can’t get over it; the Harry that came back to the island is so different from the anxious, nervous man that left the island. He’s become more confident, cares less about other people’s opinion of him and is more relaxed.

“Well good for you!” Louis says. He pulls his mouth to Harry’s and kisses him in a way that leaves both breathless.

“How about you?” Harry asks him after the kiss session.

“I resigned.” Louis sighs. Harry nods. “I’d like to keep writing, not sure if I want to work for a newspaper again, maybe work freelance, write articles for magazines. Stories that require investigation, research… that’s what I would really like to do. “Louis confesses. 

“Go for it; do what makes you happy.” Harry replies with a soft smile. 

***

They sit together on a rock at the beach, enjoying the last rays of sun. It’s October and the days are getting shorter and the weather colder, but they don’t mind. They enjoy being together without any interruptions from outside; just the two of them. They walk and talk a lot. 

“Do you want to know how it happened?” Louis asks quietly. Harry looks at him, wraps his arm around Louis.

“I know how Ben acquired your information, why he did it… it was all in the report from my solicitor.” Harry says. “Do you want to tell me your story?” He leans his head on top of Louis’. 

“Yeah, … I want to, want you to know my side of the story.” Louis replies in a soft voice. And then he starts telling Harry how he never intended to write about their time together on the island, but absentmindedly uploaded the notes he’d taken to the company drive, like he always does when he’s on an out of office assignment. He tells Harry how his best friend and co-worker had told him he suspected Ben was up to something and how Louis learned about the publication when he woke up on the Isle of Wight. 

“When photos of my face were floating around on the internet and people started to recognize me in the supermarket and in the street: I got scared. That’s when I fled London.” Louis rubs his hand over his eyes. “For the first time I got a taste of how it feels when strangers recognize you and whisper behind your back, and in my case shouted profanities at me. This wasn’t how I imagined I’d make the headlines one day.” He turns his head up to look at Harry. “I understand better how you must have felt your entire career, it’s okay when people admire you, but when they disagree or despise you, fame becomes a rather scary condition.” 

“And you fled… like I did before.” Harry says. “When Zayn showed me the article, I could not believe you went ahead and wrote about our time here. I read it and although there were things that didn’t add up in the article, I believed you wrote it and I’m sorry I doubted you, sorry I didn’t give you the opportunity to explain and defend yourself. I was so mad; I at once acted. Ordered my team to take The Sun and you to court. Sat down with Zayn and Niall and talked about the tour; they thought I was going to withdraw from the band, but instead I wanted to continue, not like copies of our old selves from One Direction’s golden days, but as we are now as people. Instead of the label, team and management telling us what to do we told them what we wanted or else we would just quit the tour, all of us. We fought back, I fought back … for myself and the band and I felt so much stronger and better. We changed the setlist, our outfits and performance on stage and it felt good, I started to enjoy the tour and so did Zayn and Niall. The American leg of the tour was the best we ever did. I don’t know how much you saw online, but we really had a blast.” Harry ends with a grin.

“I saw you in flared trousers and frilly shirts prancing on stage waving a rainbow flag. “Louis grins back and they both start laughing. 

“I did. I wore a lot of more ‘outspoken’ outfits and nail polish and make-up towards the end of the tour and I loved showing that side of myself.” Harry sighs happily.

“I’m happy for you that something good came out of the entire mess.” Louis kisses the tip of Harry’s nose.

***

Louis finds Harry staring at the contents of the wardrobe when he brings in a breakfast tray for them both. It’s a dreary morning; fog and rain are hiding the beautiful island view they normally have from the window.

Louis sets the tray on the bedside table and watches Harry while he takes a bite from his toast. Harry picks out a maroon frilly short dress and goes to stand in front of the mirror, holding the dress in front of him.

“Nice colour.” Louis comments. Harry sighs and turns to sit down on the bed next to Louis and reaches for his cup of tea.

“Yeah, I like it, but it’s a bit too chilly to wear without something underneath today.” He says.

“Hmm, well… how about the brown flared trousers you brought with you? Maybe wear that underneath?” Louis suggests helpfully.

“Good thinking! Thank you!” Harry sets down his cup and kisses Louis on the tip of his nose. Louis smiles.

“At your service, love.” He replies. 

“Hmm, I like it.” Harry says as he turns in front of the new dressing mirror wearing the trousers combined with the dress. He added a large belt to define his waist and he looks ridiculously amazing in the outfit, Louis tells him. Which earns him a kiss on the mouth. Honestly, Harry looks good in everything he wears; he’s the most beautiful man in the world, Louis thinks as he admires Harry from his seat on the bed.

After doing the dishes, Harry puts on a little make-up, not too much, just very subtle. A nude eyeshadow, a bit of mascara and a soft maroon lip gloss. Louis does Harry’s nails, although Harry’s become better at applying nail polish than Louis since he’s done it every night before going on stage while touring. It just feels nice to do it together.

“I like having fun with clothes and make up, I always have.” Harry tells Louis when they’ve finished doing Harry’s nails and Harry is blowing softly on his nails to dry them. “I used to dress up in my sister’s clothes; she didn’t mind. We sometimes wore each other’s clothes in the weekends when we were young, which was fun. Until we became teenagers. She didn’t want to wear my clothes anymore, but she didn’t mind if I wore hers. When I became taller and broader than her, I stopped wearing ‘women’s’ clothes, but I never stopped eying the women’s fashion department in the shops. It wasn’t until my early twenties that I tried on women’s skinny jeans and shirts and my experiments with female clothes became more important in the past years.” His eyes are soft, as he strokes the maroon dress he’s wearing. 

Louis watches him. Harry loves to experiment with outfits, he’s made that clear. Louis has been wondering for a long time if it’s more than just experimenting, so he takes a deep breath before he asks the question that has been on his mind.

“Harry…” Harry looks up at him with a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question… a rather personal question?” Louis asks in a soft voice. Harry frowns, but nods.

“Do you identify as male?” Louis blushes a little, feeling a bit nervous asking Harry such a personal question. Harry’s frown deepens, he ponders his answer. Louis already regrets his question and is about to apologise when Harry speaks.

“I’m sure I do.” His speech is even slower than usual. “I like the male parts; I like man Harry.” And he continues. “I don’t desire to be female, but I think it’s wrong that men can’t wear dresses, skirts, frilly shirts or wear make-up, like women do, without being ridiculed. It shouldn’t matter how people dress if they’re comfortable with what they wear. I like what I wear today and so what if the dress comes from a ‘women’s department’ of a shop, who cares?” He sighs deeply.

“I agree.” Louis smiles at Harry. “Sorry for asking something so personal. I just wanted to be sure that I use the correct pronouns when addressing you.” He confesses shyly.

“That’s very considerate of you; and don’t apologize. I am glad you asked, thank you.” Harry takes Louis’ hand and smiles warmly. 

  
  
***

“Liam and Lottie have packed the boxes and they’re shipping them here.” Louis says after he’s pressed end call. He denounced the rent of the flat in London and although he didn’t have much personal stuff in the flat, since it came with furniture when he rented it. Liam had offered to help Louis’ sister packing and shipping his personal belongings to the island.

“Any regrets?” Harry asks in return. Louis shakes his head.

“No, I haven’t missed London at all since I left. It feels like a big relief not having to go back.” 

It’s early November and Louis has finally cut his ties with London completely, except for his sister and Liam of course. He’s been offered the chance to write an article for a regional magazine about living on a deserted island, which will be published in the magazine’s Christmas edition. 

Harry is writing songs for a new album to be recorded next year; and he’s totally enjoying the freedom of writing about topics that mean something to him. 

Together they’ve decided to live on the island for the time being, visit their families over the coming holiday season and start looking for another home somewhere between Yorkshire and Cheshire to be nearer to their families for part of the year.

Harry takes him in his arms and buries his nose in Louis’ hair.

“I love you.” He whispers. Louis looks up and smiles.

“I love you too.” He turns around in Harry’s arms and finds Harry’s lips. He covers them with his own for a loving and gentle kiss. They are happy together and are looking forward to their future life together. Who knew he would find his happiness on a remote island in the Atlantic Ocean.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story. Scotland is one of my favourite parts in the world and I just needed to write about the beautiful isles of the Hebrides. Although the Isle of Murray is a fictive Island, I hope I managed to give you an idea of how beautiful those islands are. Of course, I romanticized living on an Island; it's fiction after all, I am allowed :-)
> 
> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated :-)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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